After many people had already been called and others hadcome to take their places, the double doors leading to theinterview rooms opened. “Betsy Walsh, please follow me,” a youngman with long greasy hair, wearing a wrinkled tan linen suit,called out. He was not the first person working in the centerwho Betsy thought could use a shower.
“Have a seat,” he said once they were in the small room.“My name is Ronald.”Betsy sat in the chair putting her hands in her lap,already rubbing her knuckles in frustration.“So Ms. Walsh, you probably know we are going to bereviewing your impact.” As he opened a thick file in front ofhim, Betsy was happy to see that they had kept such good recordsof all the wonderful things she had done. She relaxed a littleand put her hands at her sides.
“Disposable diapers?” the man said looking at herquestioningly.
“No, my children wore cotton diapers,” Betsy said confused.“Not your children. You, you wore disposable diapers.”
“That’s probably true, though I can’t say I remember. Mymother could answer that question. She’s here right?”
“The 1988 Amendment to Article 5 holds the childresponsible for the impact of the disposable diapers worn,”