elettes he could find. He saved them in a barf bag. The barf bag is now sitting on his bureau at home.

Anyway, you'd think the airplane was the highlight of our trip, but of course it wasn't. What came next was not justCalifornia , but two weeks of Disneyland Daddy — you know, two weeks with a guy who hasn't seen his kids in months and feels really guilty. Guilty enough to take time off from work and give them a whirlwind vacation of beaches, amusement parks, shopping, dinners in restaurants, movies, treats, surprises. ... It was spectacular — except for the fact that a Disneyland Daddy doesn't feel like your father anymore. But I guess he's better than no father at all.

However,California was over now, and I was back. All the members of the Baby-sitters Club were back. And we still had two glorious weeks of summer vacation left before we began eighth grade.

As usual, we gathered for our meeting in Claudia's bedroom. Claudia is the vice-president of the club and the only one of us who has not just her own phone, but her own personal phone number. She's even listed separately in the Stoneybrook telephone directory as Kishi, C.

"Well, let's get down to business," said Kristy, our president. Kristy was the one who'd had the original idea to form the club.

The Baby-sitters Club is really more of a business than a club. The five of us meet three times a week at Claudia's. People call us when they need a sitter. They're willing to wait until our meetings to call, because they reach five of us at once, so they know they're practically guaranteed a sitter. No more calling all over town to track down someone available.

We're very official and responsible about running our club. This is mostly due to Kristy, even though she does get bossy about things every now and then. We keep a record book full of information — the phone numbers and addresses of our clients, an appointment calendar, and a list of our earnings.