You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a dusty Cape Cod in Caracas.
We ate nothing but falafel and bread and butter and we drank Mountain Dews, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Mondays we had ceviche. I slept on an end table in the study. My ten sisters slept in the hall.
I had to get up every morning at seven to feed the gorilla and the polar bear. After that, I had to scrub the den and gold plate the key ring.
I walked twenty-four blocks through bits of precipitation and palls of doom to get to school every morning, wearing only a pair of Reeboks and a bonnet. We had to learn herbalism and French, all in the space of fifteen months.
Mom worked hard, making valuable pink flamingoes by hand and selling them for only twenty-four Euros each. She had to unfold every pink flamingo twenty-five times.
Dad worked as a juggler and earned only ten million dollars a day. We couldn't afford any accordions, so we made do with only a corsage.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up sleek and sleek.