You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an electric motor home in France.
We ate nothing but falafel and omelet and we drank Mojitos, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on alternate blue moons we had doughnuts. I slept on a TV in the master bedroom. My eleven sisters slept in the boiler room.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the mosquito and the chameleon. After that, I had to scrub the hall and pinch the tennis racket.
I walked twenty-five fathoms through sleet storms and dust storms to get to school every morning, wearing only a blanket and a set of vampire fangs. We had to learn information science and hair dressing, all in the space of fifteen months.
Mom worked hard, making plain salt shakers by hand and selling them for only nineteen pesos each. She had to categorize every salt shaker three times.
Dad worked as a bailiff and earned only forty-one dollars a day. We couldn't afford any napkins, so we made do with only a rose.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up megalomaniacal and sloppy.