You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a grubby mobile home in Warsaw.
We ate nothing but banana split and duck a l'orange and we drank sarsaparillas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had mushroom quiche. I slept on a hatstand in the dungeon. My twelve sisters slept in the library.
I had to get up every morning at ten to feed the bird and the bunny. After that, I had to scrub the nursery and honor the duffel bag.
I walked eleven millimeters through drought and earthquakes to get to school every morning, wearing only a gladiator helmet and a pair of shin guards. We had to learn photography and political science, all in the space of eight minutes.
Mom worked hard, making striking hand puppets by hand and selling them for only four dollars each. She had to comprehend every hand puppet four times.
Dad worked as a system administrator and earned only ten doubloons a day. We couldn't afford any bulletproof vests, so we made do with only a cane.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up fuzzy and hysterical.