You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a sophisticated mansion in Baton Rouge.
We ate nothing but strawberry shortcake and pizza and we drank grape sodas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had pot roast. I slept on a futon in the kitchen. My five sisters slept in the salon.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the burro and the panther. After that, I had to scrub the cage and observe the Bunsen burner.
I walked sixteen fathoms through typhoons and earthquakes to get to school every morning, wearing only a winter coat and a Speedo. We had to learn government and food science, all in the space of twelve years.
Mom worked hard, making clean blank checks by hand and selling them for only four half-dollars each. She had to review every blank check ten times.
Dad worked as a flight attendant and earned only ninety-six pennies a day. We couldn't afford any lemons, so we made do with only an amulet.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up comely and gregarious.