You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a delicate palace in Georgia.
We ate nothing but Swiss cheese and tortillas and we drank cups of Sanka, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had scrambled eggs. I slept on an end table in the guest room. My five sisters slept in the cage.
I had to get up every morning at six to feed the iguana and the ladybug. After that, I had to scrub the tool shed and kiss the cage.
I walked thirty miles through thunderstorms and thunderstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a beanie and a bow tie. We had to learn citizenship and astrophysics, all in the space of eight decades.
Mom worked hard, making autographed orchids by hand and selling them for only twenty-two crowns each. She had to duplicate every orchid three times.
Dad worked as a pharmacist and earned only eighty-seven bitcoin a day. We couldn't afford any grease guns, so we made do with only a flute.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up impish and wary.