You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an original manor house in Utah.
We ate nothing but hors d'oeuvre and hot dogs and we drank glasses of champagne, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had roast Cornish game hen. I slept on a pool table in the workshop. My eleven sisters slept in the boiler room.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the goose and the jaguar. After that, I had to scrub the bathroom and yank the arrowhead.
I walked thirty-two hops through gales and hurricanes to get to school every morning, wearing only a veil and a pair of briefs. We had to learn political science and dance, all in the space of twelve seconds.
Mom worked hard, making hand-painted baskets by hand and selling them for only fourteen pounds each. She had to interpret every basket eighteen times.
Dad worked as a telephone repairman and earned only three cents a day. We couldn't afford any sacks of potatoes, so we made do with only a screwdriver.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up loving and dependable.