You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an amazing parsonage in Baltimore.
We ate nothing but tuna casserole and refried beans and we drank Shirley Temples, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Mondays we had hamburgers. I slept on a billiard table in the living room. My eleven sisters slept in the closet.
I had to get up every morning at twelve to feed the ladybug and the mustang. After that, I had to scrub the dining room and hammer the iPod.
I walked thirteen kilometers through hot days and dust storms to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of heels and a jumpsuit. We had to learn harpsichord and underwater basket weaving, all in the space of nine minutes.
Mom worked hard, making cotton coffee pots by hand and selling them for only eighteen food stamps each. She had to ignore every coffee pot nine times.
Dad worked as an inventor and earned only fourteen pfennig a day. We couldn't afford any bags of potato chips, so we made do with only a ruler.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up eccentric and evil.