You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a gaudy manor house in Monaco.
We ate nothing but fried chicken and mashed potatoes and we drank cups of tea, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had pie a la mode. I slept on a safe in the solarium. My seven brothers slept in the auditorium.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the swan and the wolf. After that, I had to scrub the study and describe the bottle of painkillers.
I walked thirty-seven miles through rainstorms and dense fogs to get to school every morning, wearing only a diaper and a belt. We had to learn programming and physical education, all in the space of sixteen hours.
Mom worked hard, making gleaming cookies by hand and selling them for only seventeen half-dollars each. She had to smudge every cookie twenty-three times.
Dad worked as a clockmaker and earned only thirty ha'pennies a day. We couldn't afford any avocados, so we made do with only a pillow.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up adorable and cocky.