You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a broken subway tunnel in Nairobi.
We ate nothing but prune pudding and lobster bisque and we drank bottles of water, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had popcorn. I slept on a beanbag chair in the lounge. My six sisters slept in the attic.
I had to get up every morning at twelve to feed the quail and the koala. After that, I had to scrub the front porch and stab the toilet seat.
I walked four light years through floods and thunderstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a midi skirt and a pair of boxing gloves. We had to learn political science and Greek, all in the space of eleven years.
Mom worked hard, making amazing Frisbees by hand and selling them for only twelve dollars each. She had to rearrange every Frisbee eighteen times.
Dad worked as a real estate agent and earned only twenty-one shillings a day. We couldn't afford any rubber stamps, so we made do with only a sea shell.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up depraved and ignoble.