You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a colossal hotel in Algeria.
We ate nothing but cinnamon toast and duck a l'orange and we drank doses of cod liver oil, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had hot dogs. I slept on a catbird seat in the oubliette. My seven brothers slept in the auditorium.
I had to get up every morning at five to feed the monster and the parrot. After that, I had to scrub the billiard room and honor the biscuit.
I walked twenty-two miles through humid days and blizzards to get to school every morning, wearing only a winter coat and a pair of Oxfords. We had to learn plumbing and obedience, all in the space of fifteen days.
Mom worked hard, making worn rubber chickens by hand and selling them for only fifteen marks each. She had to prepare every rubber chicken six times.
Dad worked as a preacher and earned only four yuans a day. We couldn't afford any cowbells, so we made do with only a smart phone.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up high-strung and coy.