You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a prickly manor house in Louisiana.
We ate nothing but Swiss cheese and smoked salmon and we drank Pepto Bismols, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had macaroni. I slept on a stool in the atrium. My two brothers slept in the lounge.
I had to get up every morning at six to feed the dog and the lamb. After that, I had to scrub the servant's quarters and throw the accordion.
I walked three inches through gales and earthquakes to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of knickers and a dunce cap. We had to learn mechanical engineering and reading, all in the space of nineteen months.
Mom worked hard, making polka-dotted toys by hand and selling them for only twenty-five farthings each. She had to hack every toy three times.
Dad worked as a wedding planner and earned only fifty-five half-dollars a day. We couldn't afford any cell phones, so we made do with only a monkey wrench.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up intelligent and obedient.