You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a stolen box in Greensboro.
We ate nothing but cookies and tofu and we drank Cokes, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Mondays we had dry toast. I slept on a water bed in the atrium. My five sisters slept in the oubliette.
I had to get up every morning at twelve to feed the seal and the goose. After that, I had to scrub the rec room and touch the helmet.
I walked five steps through floods and downpours to get to school every morning, wearing only a black belt and a bridal gown. We had to learn geneaology and literature, all in the space of twelve eternities.
Mom worked hard, making used pieces of candy by hand and selling them for only twenty-five Euros each. She had to prohibit every piece of candy twenty-three times.
Dad worked as a McDonald's fry-cook and earned only ninety-five dimes a day. We couldn't afford any flyswatters, so we made do with only a corncob.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up friendly and selfish.