You think you've got it rough? You should have been around when I was a kid. Our whole family lived in a slimy nunnery in Buffalo.
We ate nothing but blueberry pie and chopped liver and we drank ice cream sodas, and we were glad to have them. Sometimes on Thursdays we had egg drop soup. I slept on a floor in the laundry room. My six sisters slept in the study.
I had to get up every morning at nine to feed the anteater and the bear. After that, I had to scrub the ballroom and brush the microphone.
I walked eleven jumps through blankets of mist and hot days to get to school every morning, wearing only a headband and a set of football pads. We had to learn programming and computer science, all in the space of two days.
Mom worked hard, making archaic acorns by hand and selling them for only fourteen half-dollars each. She had to grease every acorn three times.
Dad worked as a shoe repairer and earned only seventy-five cents a day. We couldn't afford any telephones, so we made do with only a vase.
In spite of all the hardships, we grew up hungry and noble.