You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in an autographed Victorian mansion in St. Petersburg.
We ate nothing but hors d'oeuvre and tofu and we drank old fashioneds, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Saturdays we had pizza. I slept on a toilet in the library. My four brothers slept in the atrium.
I had to get up every morning at eleven to feed the cockatiel and the horse. After that, I had to scrub the workshop and soak the potato.
I walked nineteen light years through lightning storms and hailstorms to get to school every morning, wearing only a gold medal and a diamond bracelet. We had to learn deportment and Greek, all in the space of eleven days.
Mom worked hard, making damaged lollipops by hand and selling them for only six food stamps each. She had to get every lollipop eighteen times.
Dad worked as an interior designer and earned only ninety-four francs a day. We couldn't afford any primroses, so we made do with only a paperweight.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up adorable and resolute.