You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a handy parsonage in Providence.
We ate nothing but duck a l'orange and Froot Loops and we drank sodas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Mondays we had Hamburger Helper. I slept on a counter in the bathroom. My nine sisters slept in the solarium.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the rabbit and the mole. After that, I had to scrub the kitchen and propel the pigeon.
I walked eleven inches through blizzards and typhoons to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of bloomers and a poodle skirt. We had to learn poetry and traditional medicine, all in the space of six days.
Mom worked hard, making imitation chairs by hand and selling them for only seven yuans each. She had to whirl every chair three times.
Dad worked as a talk-show host and earned only sixty-eight pfennig a day. We couldn't afford any corks, so we made do with only a pipe.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up monstrous and precocious.