Tiny Tears and Betsy Wetsy
He thinks I’m cute. I think he’s wearing rose-colored glasses. He thinks that because of the way that I look and sound, I get away with a lot. I think that because of the way that I look and sound, no one takes me seriously. Case in point: he compares me to a doll. A doll. Tiny Tears with the “rock-a-bye eyes”—to be specific—because I fall asleep soon after I lie down. “I don’t,” I say. “You do,” he counters….