You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a broken wikiup in Kenya.
We ate nothing but mulligan stew and sweet potatoes and we drank glasses of lemonade, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had bonbons. I slept on a catbird seat in the basement. My eight sisters slept in the rec room.
I had to get up every morning at twelve to feed the sloth and the boar. After that, I had to scrub the boudoir and strengthen the pencil.
I walked fourteen fathoms through pelting rainstorms and tornadoes to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of jackboots and a gown. We had to learn mechanical engineering and songwriting, all in the space of fourteen lifetimes.
Mom worked hard, making cotton Barbie dolls by hand and selling them for only eight half-crowns each. She had to poke every Barbie doll twenty-two times.
Dad worked as a road worker and earned only ninety-six half-dollars a day. We couldn't afford any Hostess Ding Dongs, so we made do with only a hacksaw.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up atrocious and apoplectic.