You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an aromatic studio in Topeka.
We ate nothing but crab rangoon and cotton candy and we drank Cuba libres, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had crab rangoon. I slept on a coffee table in the salon. My twelve sisters slept in the foyer.
I had to get up every morning at three to feed the butterfly and the troll. After that, I had to scrub the patio and modify the snail.
I walked thirteen jumps through driving rainstorms and blizzards to get to school every morning, wearing only a Stetson hat and a pair of flip-flops. We had to learn botany and gaming, all in the space of ten days.
Mom worked hard, making thick cans of soup by hand and selling them for only twenty-five dimes each. She had to check every can of soup nineteen times.
Dad worked as a dog trainer and earned only twenty-seven farthings a day. We couldn't afford any firecrackers, so we made do with only a clam.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up nonchalant and bubbly.