Mallory and Jessi, our junior officers, don’t have any special jobs. The junior officers simply aren’t allowed to sit at night unless they’re sitting for their own brothers and sisters, so when Mary Anne schedules jobs, she tries to give the after-school and weekend jobs to Jessi and Mallory first. That way the rest of us will be free to take the evening jobs.

     And that’s it. That’s how our club — Oh, wait. One more thing. The club notebook. The

notebook is different from the record book, but just as important. It’s more of a diary than a notebook. Any time one of us club members goes on a baby-sitting job, she’s responsible for writing up the job in the notebook. Then, once a week, each of us is supposed to read the notebook. This is really very helpful. We learn how our friends solve sitting problems, or if a kid that we’re going to be taking care of has a new fear, a new hobby, etc. Some of the girls think that writing in the notebook is a boring chore, but I think it’s valuable.

     Okay. That really is it. Now you know how our club began and how it runs, so let’s get-~ back to business.

     After I had said “Order!” for about the third time, everyone settled down. “Any business?” I asked.

     “Dues day!” announced Dawn. She bounced off the bed, blonde hair flying. The treasury envelope was in her hands, and she opened

it.

     “Oh,” groaned the rest of us. We earn a lot of money baby-sitting, but we don’t like to part with it for dues, even though we know we have to.

     “Aw, come on,” said Dawn. “It isn’t that bad. Besides, think of me. 1 have to listen to this moaning and complaining every Monday

afternoon.” Dawn collected the money, then handed some of it to me. “That’s for Charlie,” she said. “We have to pay him today.”

     I nodded. “Thanks, Dawn.”

     My friends settled down. Claudia leaned against one of her pillows and began braiding her hair. Mary Anne unwrapped a piece of gum. Dawn flipped through the pages of the notebook. On the floor, Mallory doodled in one of Claudia’s sketchbooks, and Jessi absentmindedly lifted the cover of a shoe box labeled PASTILS AND CJ-IARCAOLS (Claudia isn’t a great speller), and exclaimed, “Hey, there’s M and M’s in here!”