A Photograph
After I blogged that I don’t have a photo of my dad, my aunt digged up her albums and tried to look for one Christmas photo of me and my family, and the dollhouse my dad made for me and my sister. That’s the photo above.
I thought it would make me happy. For a time, it did (like for five minutes). But as I looked at it last night, it made me cry. I cried for more than an hour and I hated myself for it. It seemed like I was stuck in a bad melodramatic movie.
Nonetheless, I’m kinda glad I now have a proof that I did have a dad, and a doll house.
BTW, I was a cute kid, no? Guess which one I am. And guess which one is my cousin who threw a tantrum to be included in our family’s uber exclusive, once in a lifetime family photo. 
(Note: The doll house is in actual photo but not on this one because this is just a photo of the photo. 
)
