You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an ordinary spa in Afghanistan.
We ate nothing but egg salad sandwich and ham and we drank shots of whiskey, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had potatoes and gravy. I slept on a pedestal in the parlor. My seven sisters slept in the living room.
I had to get up every morning at ten to feed the mosquito and the poodle. After that, I had to scrub the closet and scratch the football.
I walked nine hops through floods and dust storms to get to school every morning, wearing only a beard and a loincloth. We had to learn citizenship and hygiene, all in the space of five eternities.
Mom worked hard, making amazing peaches by hand and selling them for only six doubloons each. She had to expose every peach twenty times.
Dad worked as a film producer and earned only ninety-eight pounds a day. We couldn't afford any pictures, so we made do with only a horseshoe.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up nervous and prissy.