You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a slimy sand castle in Latvia.
We ate nothing but blueberry pie and pretzels and we drank Pepto Bismols, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had lamb curry. I slept on a billiard table in the foyer. My eleven brothers slept in the guest room.
I had to get up every morning at three to feed the anteater and the ape. After that, I had to scrub the linen closet and smash the box.
I walked eighteen kilometers through blizzards and blankets of mist to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of false eyelashes and a romper. We had to learn hotel management and business, all in the space of eighteen minutes.
Mom worked hard, making sleek darts by hand and selling them for only four shillings each. She had to catch every dart twenty-four times.
Dad worked as a fruit picker and earned only forty-three pounds a day. We couldn't afford any lollipops, so we made do with only a soccer ball.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up wizened and deadly.