You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a queer KOA Kampground in Sudan.
We ate nothing but lamb curry and pizza and we drank gin and tonics, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had pot roast. I slept on a safe in the linen closet. My six sisters slept in the outhouse.
I had to get up every morning at eleven to feed the hippopotamus and the swan. After that, I had to scrub the closet and bury the flag.
I walked eleven miles through typhoons and palls of doom to get to school every morning, wearing only a business suit and a pair of knickerbockers. We had to learn physical education and government, all in the space of seven hours.
Mom worked hard, making magnificent notebooks by hand and selling them for only twelve half-dollars each. She had to control every notebook eighteen times.
Dad worked as a dermatologist and earned only ninety pesos a day. We couldn't afford any Kindles, so we made do with only a corncob.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up presumptuous and beautiful.