You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a frilly trough in Malta.
We ate nothing but hot dogs and chicken pot pie and we drank doses of cod liver oil, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Sundays we had candy. I slept on a casket in the ballroom. My eight brothers slept in the servant's quarters.
I had to get up every morning at five to feed the boar and the unicorn. After that, I had to scrub the living room and scrub the backpack.
I walked five jumps through hot days and sleet storms to get to school every morning, wearing only a military uniform and a cape. We had to learn anatomy and Esperanto, all in the space of nineteen years.
Mom worked hard, making broken pairs of headphones by hand and selling them for only twenty guineas each. She had to drench every pair of headphones twenty-three times.
Dad worked as a bassoonist and earned only ninety-one bitcoin a day. We couldn't afford any paintings, so we made do with only a calculator.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up stylish and megalomaniacal.