Eleven minutes may not sound like a long time, but our meetings only last half an hour: 5:30 to 6:00 (on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays).

At 5:43, the phone finally rang.

"Sshhhh!" Claudia urged. We held in our giggles as she lifted the receiver. "Hello, Babysitters Club. Oh, hi, Mrs. McGill. . . . She's right here."

Stacey's mom works at a department store called Bellair's. Sometimes she calls during the BSC meeting to tell Stacey she'll be late. "Hi, Mom," Stacey said cheerfully into the receiver. "Is everything okay? . . . You're looking for a what? When? Okay, I will. . . . Thanks."

We all stared at Stace as she hung up. She looked totally confused. "That’s weird. She called to say they lost their Santa Claus."

Huh?

"Disappeared between men's shoes and home appliances, huh?" Claudia said solemnly. "I know that area. If s like the Bermuda Triangle."

"No." Stacey smiled. "The guy who's playing their Santa is this actor, and he got cast in a movie, so he has to leave town right away. Mom tried calling some backups, but they're all busy playing Santa in other places."

Kristy's mind went to work. "Well, I'm sure if they put an ad in the paper, maybe checked with some employment agencies — "

"It's too late for the ad," Stacey interrupted. "And I don't think an agency would help because if s a volunteer job. She asked if one of us wanted to do it, starting a week from Saturday."

Claudia nearly choked on a Cheez Doodle. "You're joking."

"Better keep eating," Kristy remarked. "You may need a big belly."

"Very funny," Claudia replied. "Like a thirteen-year-old girl is really going to be a Santa."

"Mom says it doesn't matter," Stacey insisted. "The most important thing is caring about kids."

"I don't know," Mary Anne said. "I mean, what about our height, our voices — "

"Santa doesn't have to be super-tall. And you can lower your voice," Mallory suggested.