You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a fluffy office in Nebraska.
We ate nothing but crumb cake and country glazed ham and we drank glasses of champagne, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had cornbread. I slept on a dining table in the family room. My seven brothers slept in the patio.
I had to get up every morning at six to feed the lark and the donkey. After that, I had to scrub the workshop and duplicate the accordion.
I walked thirty-seven hops through sleet storms and palls of doom to get to school every morning, wearing only a diamond bracelet and a belt. We had to learn Spanish and physical education, all in the space of sixteen fortnights.
Mom worked hard, making queer fire hoses by hand and selling them for only six doubloons each. She had to monitor every fire hose thirteen times.
Dad worked as a gunsmith and earned only twelve ha'pennies a day. We couldn't afford any hair brushes, so we made do with only a towel.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up rapacious and anemic.