You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a bizarre castle in Zanzibar.
We ate nothing but oatmeal and ice cream and we drank Harvey Wallbangers, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had lobster bisque. I slept on a rug in the conservatory. My three brothers slept in the family room.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the iguana and the weasel. After that, I had to scrub the foyer and sand the fish bowl.
I walked six kilometers through ice storms and snowstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a heavy layer of makeup and a sombrero. We had to learn mathematics and sociology, all in the space of twelve months.
Mom worked hard, making worn coat check tickets by hand and selling them for only ten francs each. She had to shake every coat check ticket twenty-nine times.
Dad worked as a music teacher and earned only thirty-four shillings a day. We couldn't afford any bilge pumps, so we made do with only a pail.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up intrepid and choleric.