You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a colossal travel trailer in Podunk Hollow.
We ate nothing but crab rangoon and lobster bisque and we drank Tom and Jerrys, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had tuna casserole. I slept on a filing cabinet in the study. My eleven sisters slept in the attic.
I had to get up every morning at eleven to feed the skunk and the anaconda. After that, I had to scrub the solarium and maintain the cigar.
I walked twenty-nine inches through sandstorms and pelting rainstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a jumper and a bonnet. We had to learn government and deportment, all in the space of fourteen eternities.
Mom worked hard, making original wrenches by hand and selling them for only twelve pounds each. She had to destroy every wrench twenty times.
Dad worked as a loan officer and earned only seventy-two marks a day. We couldn't afford any egg shells, so we made do with only a teddy bear.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up poised and pesky.