You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a rigid geodesic dome in Armenia.
We ate nothing but bread and butter and sushi and we drank sassafras teas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Wednesdays we had biscuits and gravy. I slept on a cupboard in the den. My twelve brothers slept in the cage.
I had to get up every morning at four to feed the pig and the seal. After that, I had to scrub the ballroom and monitor the comic book.
I walked five miles through periods of warm weather and lightning storms to get to school every morning, wearing only a big grin and a pair of moon boots. We had to learn geneaology and English, all in the space of twenty lifetimes.
Mom worked hard, making funny yo-yos by hand and selling them for only twenty-three half-crowns each. She had to grasp every yo-yo sixteen times.
Dad worked as a prisoner and earned only ninety-three pfennig a day. We couldn't afford any pencil sharpeners, so we made do with only a towel.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up cowardly and cunning.