You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an electric subway tunnel in Argentina.
We ate nothing but Cheerios and Swiss cheese and we drank Cuba libres, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had omelet. I slept on a pedestal in the library. My ten sisters slept in the family room.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the tiger and the prairie dog. After that, I had to scrub the living room and wrap the acorn.
I walked twelve millimeters through drizzles and humid days to get to school every morning, wearing only a mortarboard and a turtleneck. We had to learn French and deportment, all in the space of five centuries.
Mom worked hard, making striking bugles by hand and selling them for only twenty-four yuans each. She had to whirl every bugle eleven times.
Dad worked as a page and earned only ninety-six pfennig a day. We couldn't afford any crystal balls, so we made do with only a diary.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up sleepy and refined.