I so longed for a family that cared for each other. For a while, I thought they did. And I played along with that charade. On Christmas Eve afternoon, I'd transform my godparents' living room into a bustling printing press. Postcards, wafer rolls, the dinner menu… The work piled up, and I, my own little head, would get stressed out watching the hours tick by and I still hadn't laminated the cards or the glue holding the glitter in place hadn't dried. I've always been a ridiculously compliant and diligent little doll, not very rebellious, but a terrible procrastinator. When it was time to sit down at the table, I'd get annoyed because no one expected me to place all the stationery I'd made, with personalized messages for each guest, under their plate. Until I got tired of it, or maybe I just grew up. I don't know which came first.