Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 059

"Robbie Mara is such a jerk," Ben said sympathetically when I got to the part where the boys teased me in the home ec room.

As I finished my story, Johnny, James, and Mathew came into the living room. They greeted me happily. "What are you guys up to?" I asked.

"We have to clean our rooms tonight," Mathew said. "They haven't been cleaned in two days." "Two days!" I cried, impressed. "My brothers haven't cleaned their rooms in two months!" "Boy, I wish I lived at your house," said Johnny.

"I wish you did, too." I laughed. "I'd love to trade brothers with Ben." "You keep saying that, Mal, but I don't think you'd really want to," said Ben.

"I'm not kidding," I insisted.

"Let's do it then," said Ben. "Let's trade brothers." "If only we could." "We can. For one night, anyway. You send your brothers here, and I'll send my brothers to your house." "Yeah! Cool!" cried James.

"It's a deal!" I said. "I'll have one whole evening of peace and quiet in my house. It's going to be great!" Chapter 12.

The Brother Switch was on! That Wednesday the schools were closed for a teacher's conference, so Tuesday night seemed the perfect night to try out the switch. (I didn't want to stick Mrs. Hobart with the job of getting my brothers off to school. That was asking too much!) At first my parents thought the idea was strange. "Why are you doing this?" my father asked that night at the dinner table when I brought up the idea.

"Ben and I thought it would be an interesting experiment," I said. It didn't seem wise to tell the whole truth - that I also wanted to get rid of my brothers for a night. My parents might not have appreciated it, and it was certain to make my brothers uncooperative.

As it was, they loved the idea. "Yipeee! Mrs. Hobart is a great cook!" Nicky cried happily.

(My mother shot him a Look, but he didn't notice.) "They have Game Boy, too," said Adam, who had been complaining lately that we didn't have enough Nintendo games.

"And no sisters to bug us for one whole night!" Jordan yelled jubilantly.

This time my sisters and I were the ones giving the Looks. "Bug you!" Vanessa cried. "You bug MS!" (I was glad she said it, so I didn't have to.) "We do not," Jordan objected. "You're always bugging us." He scrunched up his face and imitated a girl's high voice. "Stop it! Get out of here! You're making a mess! You're too loud! Ew, that's disgusting!" "You are messy and disgusting!" said Margo.

"You are!" Nicky replied.

"That's enough," my father interrupted. "So. I take it you guys want to go to the Ho-barts' tomorrow." The question was answered with resounding cries of enthusiasm. So, still looking a bit uncertain about the plan, my mother called Mrs. Hobart after supper. From what I could make of their conversation, Mrs. Hobart was equally baffled by this idea, but she said it was okay by her.

After school the next day, I walked over to the Hobarts' with Nicky and the triplets. Then I walked back to my house with James, Mat-hew, and Johnny, sure I was getting the best of the deal - dumping off four monsters and returning with three little gentlemen. It was too good to be true. I almost felt guilty. Almost.

"Here we are," I said, letting the boys in the front door. Margo, Vanessa, and Claire were bunched up on the stairs, staring and giggling at them.

"These are my sisters," I said. "You'll get used to them." Mom walked in from the kitchen and greeted the Hobarts. "Mal, take them upstairs and show them the boys' room." "Good idea," I said, heading for the stairs. My sisters scrambled up ahead of us, still giggling. I stood aside and let the boys pass.

"This was your idea. You're in charge," my mother warned as the boys ran upstairs.

"No problem," I assured her. "You're going to love these kids, Mom. They're like angels." Then I ran up the stairs after the boys.

"Bunk beds! Cooler than cool!" I heard James yell happily, when he reached the boys' room. When I reached the room, I was a little surprised to see the boys climbing over the beds as if they were a jungle gym.

"We've always wanted bunk beds/' Mat-hew explained.

"Pick whichever bed you like/' I told them.

That was a mistake. All three of them wanted the top bunk. Since there were only two tops, that presented a problem. Being the youngest, Johnny got stuck with the bottom. I felt bad for him, but figured it might be safer to leave him on the bottom. Still, this put Johnny in a pouty mood.

"Come on down to the rec room," I said to the boys.

Mathew's eyes lit up as if it were Christmas. "You have a room that you're allowed to wreck?" "No, not wreck like that," I said. "Rec as in short for recreation." I was talking to myself, though. The boys raced down the hall and down the stairs, eager to find this room they could wreck.

And they did.

They found it and they wrecked it.

My sisters helped a lot. They introduced the boys to the joys of bouncing on the furniture. Claire turned into a super clown - making faces, doing silly dances, pretending to be a dog and barking at everyone. The other kids became giddy and silly. Soon they were all barking and growling at one another.

I sat on the stairs and watched this in stunned silence. What was going on? My angelic sisters meet the angelic Hobarts, and chaos breaks loose! This wasn't what was supposed to happen. I realized I better step in.

"Hey," I said, "how about playing Operation?" I figured that game was something that would occupy them - quietly.

"Okay," Vanessa agreed, dragging the game out from under the couch.

"Oh, man! Operation!" James cried. "I've always wanted to play this." Bunk beds and Operation. So far James's visit to our house was turning out to be a dream come true - for him.

Soon the kids were happily playing Operation. I left them alone and went upstairs to the kitchen. "I'm going to run to the store and pick up a few things I need for supper," Mom said to me. "Do you think you can handle things for about an hour?" "Sure. They're playing a game downstairs," I told her. Mom left and I spread my school books out on the kitchen table. I wanted to finish my homework so I could enjoy my day off tomorrow. (I felt like writing the principal a letter thanking him for picking a perfect day to have a teachers' conference. Wednesday! It meant I wouldn't have gym again until next Monday. Good choice, Mr. Taylor.) Ill I began my English assignment and became pretty engrossed in it. After about forty-five minutes I decided I'd better check on the kids. I suddenly realized it was too quiet.

When I entered the rec room, I sucked in my breath. The kids were gone and the place was ... a wreck.

Chairs were stacked on top of the couch, the Ping-Pong table was on its side, the stools were upside down with the throw cover of a chair draped over them. It looked as if the kids had been trying to build some kind of furniture city. Games pieces were everywhere - Operation bones, Monopoly money and cards, pieces from the game Mousetrap.

Then I heard it.

The sound of water running.

I raced upstairs to the bathroom. The peels of hysterical laughter and high-pitched giggles that I heard while I was on the steps gave me a sinking feeling that something not-allowed was going on.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw the kids running back and forth between the bedrooms and the bathroom. They were soaking wet and covered with strings of pink soap foam. The hallway was covered with puddles.

You wouldn't believe what I found in the bathroom. The tub was almost overflowing and Claire stood in it with her clothes on, shooting whoever came in with the can of foam. She zapped me as I stepped into the room.

"I'm the foam-head silly-billy-goo-goo monster!" she cried gleefully as I turned off the water.

"Vanessa!" I screamed, lifting Claire out of the tub.