Betty Braids, written my P. K.P. 434. In 2013, my wife and I divorced. The divorce went well and we're still good friends of this day

partly because we have a daughter together we agreed to split custody over our daughter and we moved into separate houses.

I rented an old house in the historic district of the city where we live.

It's a very pretty home, built 1935, but kept up very well.

I would have my daughter two weeks at a time.

Her bedroom was in the back of the house.

At the time of this story, she was three years old.

Every so often, when it was my weeks I noticed

my daughter talking to herself engaged in a conversation with what I figured was her

first imaginary friend. One day I found her in a little closet talking to this friend.

I asked her who she was talking to.

She said she was talking to another little girl named Betty.

As she was only three years old I had no idea

where she heard the name Betty but I continued to just chalk it all up to a child's

vivid imagination. Since my daughter would stay with me for two weeks at a time, I had to get her dressed and ready every day.

Honestly, I had no idea what to do when it came to dressing a little girl.

Doing her hair was probably the part I was the worst at.

Her mother was good at that stuff, not me.

So every time I would send her back to her mom, my ex would have a little laugh at how poorly

I dressed our daughter. Oh well, I would just tell myself that one day soon my daughter would be old enough to do it all herself and I would be off the hook.

One night, all I did was give my daughter a bath, brush her hair enough not to be tangled.

Her mother was picking her up in the morning and I would be off

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