You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a hideous mansion in Huntsville.
We ate nothing but dirty rice and cinnamon toast and we drank Scotch and sodas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had enchiladas. I slept on a recliner in the patio. My eight brothers slept in the auditorium.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the chimpanzee and the phantom. After that, I had to scrub the attic and shove the Rubik's cube.
I walked twenty centimeters through sandstorms and rainstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of pantaloons and a diaper. We had to learn mechanical engineering and gaming, all in the space of sixteen seconds.
Mom worked hard, making hefty coat hangers by hand and selling them for only twenty-three pesos each. She had to grip every coat hanger two times.
Dad worked as a sheriff and earned only seventy-three stock options a day. We couldn't afford any boxes of Kleenex, so we made do with only a pipe.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up sinister and talkative.