You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a gaudy spa in Slovakia.
We ate nothing but lobster bisque and country glazed ham and we drank gin and tonics, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Thursdays we had egg rolls. I slept on an armoire in the living room. My eleven brothers slept in the dungeon.
I had to get up every morning at five to feed the elk and the manatee. After that, I had to scrub the garage and ridicule the sack.
I walked sixteen fathoms through ice storms and gales to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of khakis and a pair of knickerbockers. We had to learn communication and the alphabet, all in the space of five lifetimes.
Mom worked hard, making imported backpacks by hand and selling them for only five marks each. She had to roast every backpack sixteen times.
Dad worked as a drunkard and earned only twenty-seven dimes a day. We couldn't afford any tote bags, so we made do with only a fishing pole.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up menacing and frantic.