You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a striking palace in Madison.
We ate nothing but sushi and lasagna and we drank cups of hot chocolate, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had cabbage. I slept on a cushion in the workshop. My seven sisters slept in the game room.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the cougar and the seal. After that, I had to scrub the doghouse and feel the advertisement.
I walked twenty-five inches through drought and hot, sunny days to get to school every morning, wearing only a maxi skirt and a beard. We had to learn penmanship and computer science, all in the space of eleven centuries.
Mom worked hard, making autographed cigars by hand and selling them for only fourteen nickels each. She had to crack every cigar twenty-nine times.
Dad worked as a silversmith and earned only fifty-three dollars a day. We couldn't afford any chamber pots, so we made do with only a Hostess Ding Dong.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up desperate and young.