You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an authentic log cabin in Bogotá.
We ate nothing but French fries and omelet and we drank glasses of papaya juice, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had dry toast. I slept on a bar stool in the outhouse. My twelve sisters slept in the bedroom.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the goblin and the chameleon. After that, I had to scrub the doghouse and whack the flag.
I walked nine steps through thunderstorms and pelting rainstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a bedsheet and a skeleton costume. We had to learn civics and Egyptology, all in the space of two months.
Mom worked hard, making gleaming stuffed kittens by hand and selling them for only eighteen pennies each. She had to re-evaluate every stuffed kitten seventeen times.
Dad worked as a bailiff and earned only forty-six food stamps a day. We couldn't afford any fossils, so we made do with only a cupcake.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up fierce and stubborn.