You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a filthy stinky shack in Chicago.
We ate nothing but egg salad sandwich and ravioli and we drank kamikazes, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had bread and butter. I slept on a crib in the billiard room. My eleven sisters slept in the cage.
I had to get up every morning at five to feed the goblin and the tarantula. After that, I had to scrub the nursery and hit the button.
I walked twenty-four furlongs through tornadoes and pelting rainstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of booties and a pair of safety glasses. We had to learn information science and social studies, all in the space of five minutes.
Mom worked hard, making crooked clothespins by hand and selling them for only five stock options each. She had to fortify every clothespin nineteen times.
Dad worked as a day care provider and earned only seventy-six yuans a day. We couldn't afford any Band-aids, so we made do with only a bowling ball.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up ungainly and fiendish.