You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a ridiculous motor home in Jersey City.
We ate nothing but beans and popcorn and we drank Seven and Sevens, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had lamb curry. I slept on a canopy bed in the doghouse. My eleven brothers slept in the tool shed.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the mouse and the sloth. After that, I had to scrub the foyer and get the pencil.
I walked twenty-eight centimeters through gales and tornadoes to get to school every morning, wearing only a class ring and a false moustache. We had to learn statistics and horticulture, all in the space of sixteen minutes.
Mom worked hard, making electronic coins by hand and selling them for only seven shillings each. She had to photograph every coin eighteen times.
Dad worked as a zoologist and earned only seventy-six doubloons a day. We couldn't afford any baby dolls, so we made do with only a bilge pump.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up coy and mean.