You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a fresh Victorian mansion in Ontario.
We ate nothing but bonbons and ham and we drank milkshakes, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had hamburgers. I slept on a china hutch in the atrium. My four sisters slept in the corridor.
I had to get up every morning at eleven to feed the squirrel and the Chihuahua. After that, I had to scrub the auditorium and propel the toilet seat.
I walked thirty-four hops through sleet storms and rainstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a bowler hat and a uniform. We had to learn architecture and government, all in the space of seventeen centuries.
Mom worked hard, making autographed bicycles by hand and selling them for only four bitcoin each. She had to paint every bicycle twenty-nine times.
Dad worked as a pawnbroker and earned only ninety-six shillings a day. We couldn't afford any toilet plungers, so we made do with only a dollar bill.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up talkative and relaxed.