You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a funny cottage in Tennessee.
We ate nothing but brownies and scrambled eggs and we drank Tom and Jerrys, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Fridays we had egg salad sandwich. I slept on a cash register in the atrium. My nine brothers slept in the basement.
I had to get up every morning at eight to feed the hog and the bison. After that, I had to scrub the kitchen and reconsider the Egyptian mummy.
I walked thirty-three inches through windy days and dense fogs to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of trousers and a jumper. We had to learn plumbing and journalism, all in the space of fourteen blinks of an eye.
Mom worked hard, making dusty paintings by hand and selling them for only nineteen pfennig each. She had to choke every painting four times.
Dad worked as a drunkard and earned only seventeen marks a day. We couldn't afford any ashtrays, so we made do with only a fish.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up loving and taciturn.