You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a stiff brownstone in Berkeley.
We ate nothing but cookies and roast Cornish game hen and we drank Brandies Alexander, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had roast beef. I slept on a couch in the family room. My seven brothers slept in the billiard room.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the louse and the iguana. After that, I had to scrub the oubliette and reposition the fishhook.
I walked thirty-two meters through hailstorms and hailstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a wristwatch and a hearing aid. We had to learn biology and aeronautics, all in the space of thirteen hours.
Mom worked hard, making art deco paper bags by hand and selling them for only twenty-one pfennig each. She had to wallop every paper bag sixteen times.
Dad worked as a historian and earned only seventy-two Euros a day. We couldn't afford any hair brushes, so we made do with only a ticket.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up friendly and absent-minded.