Review Test 3

When I was about ten years old, I developed several schemes to avoid eating liver, a food I despise. My first scheme involved my little brother. Timmy too young to realize what a horrible food liver is, always ate every bit of his plate, when my parents weren't paying attention. This strategy worked until older and wiser, Tim decided to reject his liver along with the rest of us. Another liver-disposal method I used, was hiding the meat right on the plate. I'd cut the liver into tiny squares half the size of postage stamps and then I would carefully hide the pieces. I'd put them inside the skin of my baked potato, beneath some mashed peas, or under a crumpled paper napkin. This strategy worked perfectly only if my mother didn't look too closely as she scraped the dishes. Once she said to me"Do you know you left a lot of liver on your plate?"My best liver trick was to hide the disgusting stuff on a three-inch-wide wooden ledge, that ran under our dining-room table. I'd put little pieces of liver on the ledge, when Mom wasn't looking; I would sneak the dried-up scraps into the garbage early the next day. Our dog would sometimes smell the liver try to get at it, and bang his head noisily against the bottom of the table. These strategies seemed like a lot of work, but I never hesitated to take whatever steps I could. Anything was better than eating a piece of meat that tasted like old socks soaked in mud.