You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a gruesome housing project in Tennessee.
We ate nothing but clam chowder and tofu and we drank cups of cocoa, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had cinnamon toast. I slept on a recliner in the nursery. My three sisters slept in the cage.
I had to get up every morning at six to feed the grizzly bear and the buffalo. After that, I had to scrub the rec room and disguise the duffel bag.
I walked two hops through tornadoes and sandstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a bib and a pair of knickerbockers. We had to learn Esperanto and theology, all in the space of sixteen hours.
Mom worked hard, making primitive stuffed kittens by hand and selling them for only twenty-two nickels each. She had to plasticize every stuffed kitten two times.
Dad worked as an artist and earned only forty-seven pesos a day. We couldn't afford any rubber stamps, so we made do with only a roll of duct tape.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up anemic and daring.