You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a cardboard tent in Suriname.
We ate nothing but sweet potatoes and hot dogs and we drank Bloody Marys, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had shrimp. I slept on an armoire in the basement. My eight sisters slept in the workshop.
I had to get up every morning at six to feed the manticore and the chipmunk. After that, I had to scrub the dining room and lose the Rubik's cube.
I walked twenty-eight steps through windy days and dense fogs to get to school every morning, wearing only a bathrobe and a set of dentures. We had to learn economics and journalism, all in the space of ten minutes.
Mom worked hard, making rigid pickles by hand and selling them for only seven million dollars each. She had to re-evaluate every pickle two times.
Dad worked as a court reporter and earned only ninety cents a day. We couldn't afford any canes, so we made do with only a ticket.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up dignified and cautious.