Mrs. Brewer stuck her head back into the room to see what was going on. David Michael, Kristy's brother who's seven, was right behind her.

"No horseplay on the stairs," said David Michael. (It was obviously a rule he had heard many times.)

"That's right," said Mrs. Brewer.

Just then, the front door opened behind us and bumped Claudia and Mary Anne on their backsides.

"Excuse me. Excuse me." Someone was pushing his way through the crowd. It was Watson Brewer, home from work. "Well," he said, as he took a look at the chaos that greeted him. "Five more daughters, huh? Where did I get them all? Hello, girls."

"Hi, Mr. Brewer," we chorused.

"All right. All right. That's enough," Kristy said suddenly. "Baby-sitters upstairs."

I'm surprised she didn't say, "Forward, march!" or "Single file!" (she did sound like General Kristy), but we all trooped up the

stairs after her. We left Watson and Kristy's mom kissing hello in the hallway, with their kids and their animals chasing all around them.

"Phew!" Kristy said. She shut the door behind us. Mary Anne, Claudia, and I collapsed on the bed. Jessi and Mallory sat cross-legged on the floor. Kristy pulled up a chair. It looked just like a regular meeting of the Baby-sitters Club, only we were in Kristy's room, not Claudia's. Kristy picked up a clipboard and pencil and rapped on the arm of her chair.

"The meeting will now come to order," she said.

"Meeting!" Claudia cried. "Kristy, this isn't a meeting. It's a party."

I smiled at Mary Anne. Mary Anne is a good friend of Kristy's, but she knows how Kristy loves to be bossy.

"True," said Kristy. "It's not exactly a meeting. But we do have a few things to decide. Pizza, for instance. Do we want some? And, if so, what kind?"

"Pizza would be good," said Mary Anne. Mary Anne is always agreeable. "Does anyone else want pizza?"

"P-I-I-I-I-Z-Z-A-A!" said Claudia in a deep, rumbling voice. She sounded like Cookie Monster demanding cookies.