I rode my bike back to my neighborhood, feeling great. There were new clients to meet, baby-sitting to do, and two weeks of summer left!

Chapter 2.

It's amazing how different two people in the very same family can be. Take Jeff and me. We're pretty much alike, except for the obvious differences, such as that I'm a girl and he's a boy, and I'm thirteen and he's only going on ten. But then take Mom and me. (Or Mom and Jeff, for that matter.) I love my mother and we get along great, but she's kind of like Oscar Madison in The Odd Couple and I'm like Felix Unger. Mom's not a personal slob like Oscar is, but she's forgetful and absentminded, and our house is usually a mess — except for my room. My room is the calm eye in the center of a hurricane.

This is why I was not surprised to walk into my house after the Baby-sitters Club meeting and find a pair of hedgeclippers in the living room, a trail of popcorn from the front hall to

the kitchen (that was Jeff's — he's not a slob, but he is a nine-year-old boy), and a lot of other things that were in places where they didn't belong.

The mess has only grown worse since my mom got a job. Believe me, Jeff and I are happy that Mom is working — because she's happy she's working, and when she's happy, we're happy. But it does have its disadvantages. For instance, Jeff and I are now in charge of making dinner on weeknights. At first we tried taking turns, but that didn't work out, since Jeff's idea of making dinner is getting a loaf of pumpernickel out of the bread drawer.

Plus, Mom is so busy with her job that she doesn't have time for anything else. And I don't mean housecleaning. I mean dating. In particular, dating Mary Anne's father. See, Mary Anne's mom died a long time ago, and after we moved here, my mother starred seeing Mr. Spier. Mary Anne and I were so excited! We thought we were going to get to be stepsisters. But I don't think that will happen now.