As soon as my mom came home I told her,

“I wrote a letter to Bibi.”

“That’s nice,” she said.

But I could tell she wasn’t really listening.

She sat down on the couch

and patted the space next to her.

So I sat down beside her.

“I have to go back to work soon,” she said.

“We need to find someone to help us.

Someone to be with you during the daytime

until the end of summer

and then pick you up from school

when third grade starts.”

“I don’t want a new babysitter,” I said.

“I understand that,” my mom said.

“I really do.

But we don’t have a choice.

Your dad and I both work.”

“I could stay by myself,” I said.

“No,” my mom said.

“You really couldn’t.”

I knew that.

But still.

“I won’t like anyone else,” I said.

“I understand,” my mom said.

“No one in the world

is as good as Bibi,” I said.

“I know,” my mom said.

“But maybe we can find someone

who is not too terrible.

I heard about someone named Natalie.

Maybe we could try her out.”

“Do we have to?” I asked.

“We have to,” my mom said.

“Fine,” I said.

But I didn’t like it.