"But, Mom," I say. "I can't look after them. I'm busy."

"Busy?" says Mom. "Busy doing what? Watching television?"

:It's a very important program," I say. "We have to watch it for school."

Mom comes into my room.

I quickly change the channel.

"I saw that!" she says. "Since when did cartoons become important programs?"

"Ever since they were first invented," I say. "But fine. If you don't want me to do my homework, then I won't. I'll fail. I'll drop out. I'll become a full-time babysitter."

"Oh come on," says Mom. "It's just for a half and hour. They won't give you any trouble."

I groan.

"Are you kidding?" I say. "They're psychos!"

"Don't be ridiculous," says Mom.

I groan.

"Are you kidding?" I say. "They're psychos!"

"Don't be ridiculous," says Mom. "Look at them. They're lovely little girls."

She points toward the kitchen. The girls are sitting at the table having a tea party with their dolls.

"Yeah, they're lovely when you're around," I say, "but it's just an act. As soon as you leave the room, they go crazy."

Mom rolls her eyes and picks up her car keys.

"That's enough, Andy," she says. "I'm not asking you - I'm telling you. You're looking after them and that's that."

The girls - my cousins - have been here for three days now and I'm almost out of my mind. They have been messed up and breaking stuff all over the house, and I've been getting the blame. Mom is looking after them while my aunt is in the hospital having a baby. I wish she'd hurry up and have it. The sooner these kids are out of this house the better.

"Don't leave me here with them, Mom," I say. "Please, I beg you."

"Bye-bye," she calls to the girls, ignoring me. "I'm going out for a while but Andy will look after you, won't you Andy."

She fixes me with an icy glare. I know what that look means. It means that I'd better take very good care of the girls.or else.

"Bye-bye," cal the girls. They wave and smile so sweetly that, for a moment, I almost believe they are completely innocent, normal little girls.

Mom leaves.

I go to the living room window and watch her car back out of the driveway and drive away down the hill.

I look at the girls.

They're still having their tea party.

So far, so good. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

I sit back down in front of the TV and change the channel back to my cartoon. Luckily, I haven't missed too much. The mouse is still chasing the cat around, hitting him on the head with an enormous hammer. That poor cat. He never wins. He always gets clobbered. Uh-oh. Now the mouse has a box of matches.

He sets the cat's tail on fire.

Wow. That's so realistic I can practically smell the smoke.

Wait a minute.