You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a tiny geodesic dome in the Maldives.
We ate nothing but ice cream and oyster on the half-shell and we drank painkillers, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had fried chicken. I slept on a TV in the dungeon. My eleven brothers slept in the billiard room.
I had to get up every morning at three to feed the robot and the canary. After that, I had to scrub the guest room and hide the piece of candy.
I walked thirty-six kilometers through floods and dense fogs to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of jeans and a thong. We had to learn carpentry and social studies, all in the space of sixteen seconds.
Mom worked hard, making funny cowbells by hand and selling them for only sixteen cents each. She had to split every cowbell seventeen times.
Dad worked as a fruit picker and earned only fifteen marks a day. We couldn't afford any rolls of duct tape, so we made do with only a radio.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up daring and contented.