You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a hand-painted ranch house in Buenos Aires.
We ate nothing but tuna casserole and dry toast and we drank cups of bouillon, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had egg rolls. I slept on a washstand in the corridor. My twelve brothers slept in the tool shed.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the tropical fish and the dormouse. After that, I had to scrub the bedroom and roast the paper bag.
I walked thirty-two furlongs through lightning storms and sandstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a poncho and a bracelet. We had to learn dance and Russian, all in the space of thirteen centuries.
Mom worked hard, making petite ropes by hand and selling them for only five cents each. She had to uncover every rope nine times.
Dad worked as a philatelist and earned only eighteen yuans a day. We couldn't afford any toothbrushes, so we made do with only a calling card.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up grizzled and intelligent.