You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a heavy trough in Cambodia.
We ate nothing but lobster bisque and beef bouillon and we drank shots of bourbon, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had spaghetti. I slept on a footstool in the linen closet. My nine brothers slept in the solarium.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the lobster and the panda. After that, I had to scrub the pantry and duplicate the iPhone.
I walked twenty-four light years through tornadoes and windy days to get to school every morning, wearing only a stovepipe hat and a pair of pantaloons. We had to learn constitutional law and geography, all in the space of five weeks.
Mom worked hard, making petite padlocks by hand and selling them for only seventeen farthings each. She had to re-evaluate every padlock seven times.
Dad worked as a physical therapist and earned only forty-one francs a day. We couldn't afford any towels, so we made do with only a mousetrap.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up selfish and mean.