Claudia And The Terrible Truth
Ann M. Martin
Chapter 1.
"Aah! Alone at last." We gazed deeply into each other's eyes and smiled happily. Then the object of my affections began to drool.
Was I grossed out? No way. I just wiped off the drool with the cuff of my shirt and went on gazing and smiling.
Now, if I were talking about a guy — say, my boyfriend, Josh — things might be different. I'd be pretty freaked if he started to drool in front of me. But a little drool is nothing between me and my beloved cousin, Lynn. She can do no wrong, as far as I'm concerned. And since she's only six months old and teething, her lack of saliva control is no big surprise.
"I can't believe you're mine, all mine, for a whole week," I told Lynn . She gurgled happily. She may not be able to talk yet, but I can translate her little noises. She was letting me know she was as excited as I was about our time together.
Five minutes earlier, Lynn 's parents had finally left. My uncle Russ practically had to shove my aunt Peaches out the door. "What if she starts running a fever?" Peaches asked, clutching Lynn as if she couldn't bear to turn her over to me. "What if she falls out of her crib?" "Claudia knows what to do," said my mother soothingly, putting an arm around Peaches. (They're sisters.) "She can handle any situation that comes up. Remember, she's a professional baby-sitter." I nodded. "That's right," I said. " Lynn will be in the care of a full-fledged founding member of the BSC." I grinned proudly. I didn't have to explain to Peaches and Russ about the BSC. They know those initials stand for Babysitters Club, and they know what the club is all about. You can't find better, more experienced sitters anywhere.
"Not to mention the BSC member's sibling and parents," added my older sister, Janine. "Well be here too." 'And you two deserve some time off," put in my dad. 'After all, you haven't had a vacation since Lynn was born." "Hear, hear," said Russ. "Now, let's say good-bye and be on our way. There's a golf ball with my name on it, and a nice hot sauna waiting for you." They'd booked a week at a classy resort about an hour and a half away. Russ pretended to swing a golf club. It was the first day of March, so he wouldn't be doing a lot of outdoor golfing. But the place had an indoor driving range, and Russ couldn't wait to check it out.
Reluctantly, Peaches handed Lynn over to me. "Don't forget to warm her formula," she said. "But don't make it too hot. She might — " " — burn her mouth," I said, nodding as I hugged Lynn to my chest. "I know." Peaches had given us a five-page memo detailing Lynn 's routines. Not that I needed it. I've taken care of Lynn plenty of times — she's practically spent as much time at my house as she has' at her parents'! But just to make Peaches feel comfortable, I recited her directions from page three, paragraph seven: "Warm the formula until a few drops shaken on the inside of your wrist feel neither hot nor cold. Hold Lynn in a near-upright position for feeding. Make sure to burp her afterward." I could have continued, with the three paragraphs specifying exactly how to burp her, but it didn't seem necessary. Peaches was nodding.
"I guess she'll be okay," she said. 'After all, this is like her second home." She gave Lynn one last kiss, turned to join Russ, and, without looking back, managed to walk out the door. I knew that had required a humongous effort on her part, so I took pity on her. I followed them to the door and said in a squeaky voice, "Bye-bye, Mama, bye-bye, Dada! Have a good time!" I lifted Lynn 's arm and made her wave to them. Russ cracked up, and even Peaches managed a shaky smile. I knew they'd have a terrific time once the trauma of leaving Lynn was over. I stood in the doorway, waving to them until their car was out of sight. Then I carried Lynn straight up to my room, closed the door behind us,
Ann M. Martin
Chapter 1.
"Aah! Alone at last." We gazed deeply into each other's eyes and smiled happily. Then the object of my affections began to drool.
Was I grossed out? No way. I just wiped off the drool with the cuff of my shirt and went on gazing and smiling.
Now, if I were talking about a guy — say, my boyfriend, Josh — things might be different. I'd be pretty freaked if he started to drool in front of me. But a little drool is nothing between me and my beloved cousin, Lynn. She can do no wrong, as far as I'm concerned. And since she's only six months old and teething, her lack of saliva control is no big surprise.
"I can't believe you're mine, all mine, for a whole week," I told Lynn . She gurgled happily. She may not be able to talk yet, but I can translate her little noises. She was letting me know she was as excited as I was about our time together.
Five minutes earlier, Lynn 's parents had finally left. My uncle Russ practically had to shove my aunt Peaches out the door. "What if she starts running a fever?" Peaches asked, clutching Lynn as if she couldn't bear to turn her over to me. "What if she falls out of her crib?" "Claudia knows what to do," said my mother soothingly, putting an arm around Peaches. (They're sisters.) "She can handle any situation that comes up. Remember, she's a professional baby-sitter." I nodded. "That's right," I said. " Lynn will be in the care of a full-fledged founding member of the BSC." I grinned proudly. I didn't have to explain to Peaches and Russ about the BSC. They know those initials stand for Babysitters Club, and they know what the club is all about. You can't find better, more experienced sitters anywhere.
"Not to mention the BSC member's sibling and parents," added my older sister, Janine. "Well be here too." 'And you two deserve some time off," put in my dad. 'After all, you haven't had a vacation since Lynn was born." "Hear, hear," said Russ. "Now, let's say good-bye and be on our way. There's a golf ball with my name on it, and a nice hot sauna waiting for you." They'd booked a week at a classy resort about an hour and a half away. Russ pretended to swing a golf club. It was the first day of March, so he wouldn't be doing a lot of outdoor golfing. But the place had an indoor driving range, and Russ couldn't wait to check it out.
Reluctantly, Peaches handed Lynn over to me. "Don't forget to warm her formula," she said. "But don't make it too hot. She might — " " — burn her mouth," I said, nodding as I hugged Lynn to my chest. "I know." Peaches had given us a five-page memo detailing Lynn 's routines. Not that I needed it. I've taken care of Lynn plenty of times — she's practically spent as much time at my house as she has' at her parents'! But just to make Peaches feel comfortable, I recited her directions from page three, paragraph seven: "Warm the formula until a few drops shaken on the inside of your wrist feel neither hot nor cold. Hold Lynn in a near-upright position for feeding. Make sure to burp her afterward." I could have continued, with the three paragraphs specifying exactly how to burp her, but it didn't seem necessary. Peaches was nodding.
"I guess she'll be okay," she said. 'After all, this is like her second home." She gave Lynn one last kiss, turned to join Russ, and, without looking back, managed to walk out the door. I knew that had required a humongous effort on her part, so I took pity on her. I followed them to the door and said in a squeaky voice, "Bye-bye, Mama, bye-bye, Dada! Have a good time!" I lifted Lynn 's arm and made her wave to them. Russ cracked up, and even Peaches managed a shaky smile. I knew they'd have a terrific time once the trauma of leaving Lynn was over. I stood in the doorway, waving to them until their car was out of sight. Then I carried Lynn straight up to my room, closed the door behind us,
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