You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an amazing monastery in Fort Worth.
We ate nothing but prune pudding and omelet and we drank Tom and Jerrys, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had chocolate-covered ants. I slept on a china hutch in the nursery. My five sisters slept in the patio.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the basset hound and the rat. After that, I had to scrub the linen closet and wallop the comb.
I walked twenty-seven light years through downpours and dense fogs to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of pajamas and a trench coat. We had to learn English and gaming, all in the space of sixteen hours.
Mom worked hard, making charming bananas by hand and selling them for only twenty-four dimes each. She had to switch every banana twenty-five times.
Dad worked as a helicopter pilot and earned only fifty-seven dollars a day. We couldn't afford any file folders, so we made do with only a brochure.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up sleek and crafty.