Oh puhhh-lease, when I was five and my parents had divorced we lived with our mother in the attic crawlspace of some drunk from the bar she tended, I remember eating boiled hotdogs cut in half on half a bun, almost everyday... It was winter, St. Louis area, and when you walked downstairs to the kitchen you could see your breath, the man was so cheap he barely ran the heater. After almost a year of living like this my Father and Grandpa came like Black Ops in the night while my Mom was at work and rescued us to Texas....where my dad had gotten a job for the city doing maintenance at some Project Apartments and they let us live there rent free. Not only was I poor I was the only white kid in a Black and Hispanic complex.....