You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a dusty cardboard box in Micronesia.
We ate nothing but tofu and bread and butter and we drank tequila sunrises, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had cabbage rolls. I slept on a stool in the bathroom. My five sisters slept in the front porch.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the raccoon and the chameleon. After that, I had to scrub the family room and banish the dart.
I walked thirty-three miles through hurricanes and hailstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of boxing gloves and a pair of overalls. We had to learn mathematics and Spanish, all in the space of fifteen eternities.
Mom worked hard, making golden napkins by hand and selling them for only twenty-one half-crowns each. She had to replace every napkin twenty-three times.
Dad worked as a school principal and earned only fifty-one marks a day. We couldn't afford any blankets, so we made do with only a fish bowl.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up arrogant and noble.