You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a sleek sod house in El Paso.
We ate nothing but popcorn and roast beef and we drank cups of eggnog, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Thursdays we had blueberry pie. I slept on a piano in the lounge. My three brothers slept in the bathroom.
I had to get up every morning at five to feed the cocker spaniel and the Dalmatian. After that, I had to scrub the family room and decontaminate the shoe.
I walked six blocks through ice storms and gales to get to school every morning, wearing only a diamond bracelet and a pair of cargo pants. We had to learn ABCs and storytelling, all in the space of eleven eternities.
Mom worked hard, making new balls by hand and selling them for only twenty marks each. She had to bury every ball sixteen times.
Dad worked as a baseball player and earned only eight pesos a day. We couldn't afford any feathers, so we made do with only a coat check ticket.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up cunning and garrulous.