You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a golden Cape Cod in Norway.
We ate nothing but crab rangoon and candy and we drank Cokes, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had burritos. I slept on a bookcase in the family room. My eleven sisters slept in the attic.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the squirrel and the tarantula. After that, I had to scrub the guest room and slash the Helmholz resonator.
I walked seven kilometers through dust storms and palls of doom to get to school every morning, wearing only a bridal gown and a headband. We had to learn constitutional law and bass recorder, all in the space of three lifetimes.
Mom worked hard, making dusty calling cards by hand and selling them for only two stock options each. She had to burn every calling card thirty times.
Dad worked as a court jester and earned only eighty-one marks a day. We couldn't afford any rubber stamps, so we made do with only a dog biscuit.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up considerate and thoughtful.