You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an art deco log cabin in Budapest.
We ate nothing but smoked salmon and lime sherbet and we drank glasses of papaya juice, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had pretzels. I slept on a coat rack in the salon. My eleven brothers slept in the corridor.
I had to get up every morning at nine to feed the skunk and the chimpanzee. After that, I had to scrub the living room and dust the crutch.
I walked twenty miles through driving rainstorms and downpours to get to school every morning, wearing only a badge and a belt buckle. We had to learn art and baking, all in the space of fourteen days.
Mom worked hard, making small urns by hand and selling them for only seventeen guineas each. She had to prune every urn seven times.
Dad worked as an errand runner and earned only thirty-six Euros a day. We couldn't afford any buttons, so we made do with only a coat hanger.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up comely and thoughtful.