The only decent answer:

The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum… it’s breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it

If you were going for less verbose, it could be as easy as… “What do your parents do for a living?” “Parents? I was grown in a Petri dish.” go back to typing

Well, I could answer that… “My parents worked multiple jobs to keep us fed and clothed, and when we had a bit extra money they might buy a lottery ticket. We always talked about what we would do if we won and the places we would go. But we never dreamed we actually would. X years ago we did, my parents retired, shared some of the profit with me, and I work to keep my brain active.” There are states in which the winners can claim the prize anonymously. Or I could answer that “My mom is a trial lawyer, and my dad has a successful private investigation firm. As a child I grew up learning how to do a thorough background search through publicly available records, and within five minutes I can find out enough about you to write a detailed CV and tell you how much you’re worth in (your currency). Do you want to time me?”