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The kitchen phone rang, and I ran toward it, stopping to plop Babyjon in his port-a-crib (a subsidiary of BabyCrap&8482;) on the here he promptly flopped over on his back and went to sleep Yeah, well, dead parents were exhausting for everybody

I gave thanks for all the junk we&039;d bought when he&039;d been born, hoping to have occasional chances to babysit Babysit, not raise him to adulthood! But because of my precautions, we had diapers, cribs, formula, bottles, baby blankets, and onesies up the wazoo

It was funny, the Ant had only warmed up to nu when she sa much Babyjon liked me As 1 newborn, he screae at the decor of his nursery) and only shut up when I held him Once the Ant saw that, I was the number one babysitter

Sinclair had not been pleased But I wasn&039;t going to think about Sinclair, except how ot hi Sinclair with this kid, I have to adave me a certain perverse pleasure It salved the terror I felt at the sudden responsibility

I skidded across the floor and snatched the phone in the"Hello? Sinclair? You bum! Where are you? Hello?"

"-can&039;t-cell-&039;&039;

"Who is this?"

"-too far-can&039;t-hear"

I could barely h the thick static "Who! Is! This!"

"-worry-e-country"

"Marc? Is that you?"

"-no other way-don&039;t-okay-"