You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a mysterious resort in Concord.
We ate nothing but Froot Loops and applesauce and we drank Cokes, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had pecan pie. I slept on a buffet in the bathroom. My twelve sisters slept in the patio.
I had to get up every morning at three to feed the shrew and the sheep. After that, I had to scrub the dungeon and hang the cigar.
I walked three yards through hailstorms and snowstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of handcuffs and a gunny sack. We had to learn rocket science and political science, all in the space of eleven weeks.
Mom worked hard, making hefty rubber stamps by hand and selling them for only twenty-four francs each. She had to lick every rubber stamp fourteen times.
Dad worked as a barista and earned only ninety-nine shillings a day. We couldn't afford any screwdrivers, so we made do with only a dog biscuit.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up tall and confident.