You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a musty trough in Berlin.
We ate nothing but French fries and chicken pot pie and we drank Mojitos, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Thursdays we had omelet. I slept on a bunk bed in the workshop. My two sisters slept in the living room.
I had to get up every morning at eleven to feed the ring-tailed lemur and the wolf. After that, I had to scrub the workshop and select the computer.
I walked sixteen steps through drought and palls of doom to get to school every morning, wearing only a blanket and a beanie. We had to learn deportment and storytelling, all in the space of seven centuries.
Mom worked hard, making fresh clocks by hand and selling them for only twenty-four doubloons each. She had to manage every clock fifteen times.
Dad worked as a plumber and earned only twenty-five nickels a day. We couldn't afford any advertisements, so we made do with only a flag.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up spindly and angry.