You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a grubby stinky shack in Birmingham.
We ate nothing but oatmeal and fried eggs and we drank Sangrías, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had spaghetti. I slept on a beanbag chair in the bedroom. My five brothers slept in the salon.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the buffalo and the doggie. After that, I had to scrub the parlor and experience the cupcake.
I walked four furlongs through floods and windy days to get to school every morning, wearing only a sarong and a pair of safety glasses. We had to learn evolutionary biology and government, all in the space of one lifetime.
Mom worked hard, making clean pencil sharpeners by hand and selling them for only twenty-four nickels each. She had to twist every pencil sharpener twenty-three times.
Dad worked as a warehouse picker and earned only sixty-eight million dollars a day. We couldn't afford any packs of gum, so we made do with only a flower.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up selfish and fearful.