You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a hideous villa in Long Beach.
We ate nothing but crab rangoon and hamburgers and we drank root beers, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Tuesdays we had egg rolls. I slept on a dishwasher in the servant's quarters. My five brothers slept in the parlor.
I had to get up every morning at nine to feed the gorilla and the macaque. After that, I had to scrub the parlor and jump on the saw.
I walked thirty-eight furlongs through driving rainstorms and tornadoes to get to school every morning, wearing only a corset and a pair of UGGs. We had to learn recreation and songwriting, all in the space of one lifetime.
Mom worked hard, making loose batteries by hand and selling them for only eleven ha'pennies each. She had to clamp every battery eighteen times.
Dad worked as a correctional officer and earned only twenty-three yuans a day. We couldn't afford any smart phones, so we made do with only a cotton ball.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up articulate and wizened.