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you’re busy.”
    â€œDon’t you dare!”
    â€œI was just trying to help out.”
    â€œOh, sure.”
    We hung up again.
    It was almost six o’clock by then, but I received two more Baby-sitters Club calls. The first was from Mrs. Prezzioso, wanting me to sit for Jenny. I checked our record book, saw that I was free, and told her I’d be glad to sit.
    The second call was from Mrs. Pike, the mother of the eight kids. The Pikes are good customers, even though they usually just need a sitter forClaire and Margo and the younger children. The older ones can take care of themselves. However, Mrs. Pike’s call was not one of her usual ones.
    â€œHi, Mary Anne,” she said. “Listen, Mr. Pike and I have been invited to a cocktail party over in Levittown. It’ll be an early evening — we’ll be back by nine — but we don’t want to leave the kids alone while we’re out of town, so we need someone to sit for all of them. Actually, we need two someones.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. We’d done that before — sent two sitters over to the Pike brood.
    Mrs. Pike gave me the information and I said I would call her back in a few minutes when I had found out who else was available. I checked our record book. I couldn’t believe it.
    The only person free was Kristy.
    I didn’t bother to sigh or get nervous. I just picked up the phone and dialed.
    Kristy answered.
    â€œHi, it’s Mary Anne again,” I said in a rush. “The Pikes need two sitters on Friday while they go to a party in Levittown. You and I are the only ones free. We’d be sitting for all the kids. Do you want to do it?”
    â€œWith you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œFine. I’ll get Dawn Schafer to sit with me. I don’t want to let Mrs. Pike down.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t dare.”
    â€œI’ll have to.”
    â€œMary Anne Spier, for someone who’s so shy, you sure can be —”
    â€œWhat? I can be what?”
    â€œNever mind. I’ll sit with you.”
    â€œWe’ll have to be mature about it, you know.”
    â€œLook who’s talking.”
    â€œI’m serious, Kristy. We don’t want the Pike kids telling their parents that we were fighting or anything.”
    â€œI think that would be impossible.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I’m not speaking to you.”
    â€œGood,” I said. I hung up on her. Then I noted our job in the record book and called Mrs. Pike back.
    I was not looking forward to baby-sitting with Kristin Amanda Thomas.

Saturday, January 31
    Yesterday, Mary Anne and I baby-sat for the Pikes. I’m really surprised that we were able to pull it off. Hereby let it be known that it is possible: 1) for two people to baby-sit for eight kids without losing their sanity (the sitters’ or the kids’), and 2) for the baby-sitters to accomplish this without ever speaking to each other. There should be a Babysitters’ Hall of Fame where experiences like ours could be recorded and preserved for all to read about. To do what we did takes a lot of imagination.
    Kristy’s wrong. Imagination isn’t all it takes. It takes a good fight, too. You have to be pretty mad at a person in order even to think about doing what we did at the Pikes’ that evening.
    Before I go into what happened, though, let me say a little about the Pike kids. The most interesting thing is that three of the kids are triplets — Byron, Adam, and Jordan — identical boys. (Kristy and I can tell them apart, though.) They’re nine. The oldest Pike is Mallory, who’s ten, and is usually a big help to baby-sitters. After the triplets come Vanessa, who’s eight; Nicholas (Nicky), who’s seven; and Margo and Claire, who are six and four. They’re quite a brood. Actually, they’re really good kids, but their parents have raised them liberally (according to