You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a rare barracks in Vanatu.
We ate nothing but duck a l'orange and pretzels and we drank Mojitos, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had potatoes and gravy. I slept on an end table in the laundry room. My eleven brothers slept in the pool room.
I had to get up every morning at eleven to feed the owl and the dolphin. After that, I had to scrub the rec room and punch the clam.
I walked twenty-three kilometers through blankets of mist and drought to get to school every morning, wearing only a Stetson hat and a tailcoat. We had to learn neurobiology and medicine, all in the space of eighteen fortnights.
Mom worked hard, making decrepit pieces of candy by hand and selling them for only eleven food stamps each. She had to compress every piece of candy eleven times.
Dad worked as a spy and earned only thirty-eight half-dollars a day. We couldn't afford any Happy Meals, so we made do with only a can of beans.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up selfish and choleric.