My grandparents on one side were absolutely destitute native Americans living on the reservation, so poor that one of their 10 children rolled off the bed and froze to death, and on the other side my grandparents were the child of one of the co-founders of AIG and lived on millionaires row in New York and a psychopathic Alabamaian girl who fired a shotgun at her own father because he wouldn't take her into town to get her ice cream and after she missed when he grabbed her and said, "Do you know what they would have done to you if you would have killed me?" she responded with, "They would have taken me into town and gotten me some ice cream because my dad had just died."

Which sounds funny in retrospect, and it kind of is, but then imagine being the child of a woman raised by this woman.