Kristy came thundering up the stairs and into Claud's room then. (There's no mistaking when Kristy is on her way to club headquarters.) "Where is everybody?" she asked immediately. "It's already five twenty-five." "They'll get here," replied Claud calmly.

    And Claud was right. By 5:29, we were all in our places. Dawn and Claudia and I were sitting in a row on Claud's bed; Jessi and Mal were cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the bed; Stacey was straddling Claud's desk chair backward; and Kristy - our president - was sitting in a director's chair, wearing a visor, a pencil stuck over one ear.

    She looked almost regal, even though she was just wearing blue jeans, a turtleneck shirt, and her running shoes.

    As soon as the numbers on Claud's digital alarm clock changed from 5:29 to 5:30, Kristy said loudly, "Okay. Come to order!" Kristy, being the president, gets to lead the meetings. Anyway, the original idea for the Baby-sitters Club was hers. See, a year or so ago, when Kristy still lived across the street from Claud, and before Mrs. Thomas had married Watson Brewer, Kristy and her older brothers took turns baby-sitting for David Michael after school. They didn't mind that arrangement, but of course a day came when all three of them knew they were going to be busy after school, so they wouldn't be able to take care of their little brother. That night, Kristy sat around eating pizza for dinner and watching as her mother made call after call, trying to find someone who could take care of David Michael the next afternoon. And that was how Kristy got her big idea to form a baby-sitting club. If a parent could make one call and reach several sitters at once, it would save time for the parent and also pretty much guarantee him or her a sitter. Someone was bound to be free.