“You jealous people don't know me well!” Marisela said, clapping her hands. The adults asked what was wrong. Marisela shook her head. “You wicked people have stolen my underwear!”
Tomorrow, I’ll show you to a stranger. Not on purpose, of course, but we know the changing rooms at the gynecologist’s office are never private. We’ll wear a Pepto Bismol gown and Margo will stiffen because of the draft caused by observational rooms, their doors left open just a crack to see the glow of ultrasound screens.