You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a grubby chateau in Bangkok.
We ate nothing but brownies and mushroom quiche and we drank Scotch and sodas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had pretzels. I slept on a footstool in the pantry. My eight sisters slept in the basement.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the dog and the raven. After that, I had to scrub the servant's quarters and seal the mop.
I walked twenty-eight furlongs through snowstorms and rainbows to get to school every morning, wearing only an apron and a jogging suit. We had to learn cartography and theology, all in the space of four minutes.
Mom worked hard, making waxy African violets by hand and selling them for only twenty crowns each. She had to taste every African violet twenty-nine times.
Dad worked as a jailer and earned only eighty-one pounds a day. We couldn't afford any fossils, so we made do with only a camera.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up garrulous and witty.