I loved working with my dad, but I hated the summer job he gave me. He owned a small（1）1in Bank Street. In his shop, the most recently（2）2person got the worst job, and the boss' son was also （3）3 ．
I didn't want to spend hours（4）4the frost on the ceiling of the walk－in freezer, and it was the Saturday afternoon's job that I hated most. We received fresh（5）5every day. Chicken sat in wooden boxes and was（6）6with crushed ice.During the week, the ice and the blood of the chicken slowly leaked into the containers （7）7the chicken, creating its bloody smell.
There was only one （8）8to get rid of the blood and wash the containers: hold my（9）9 and carefully slide the containers from under the chicken, as I tried not to（10）10the contents over my clothes, and then（11）11into the drain(下水道)．
Soon, students（12）12have cut lawns, painted houses, worked in offices, or maybe even worked in the butcher's will（13）13to school. Some will have great memories（14）14others will come back with （15）15ones.
Looking back, I thought my father could have（16）16me from my weekly hell. However, my dad, who'd dropped out of school to help support his family after his father died, was a teacher for me （17）17 ． He knew treating me（18）18from his other employees would be an unfair thing. Most importantly, he taught me to（19）19those who do the hard and（20）20tasks in life.
For the next six summers, I returned not as the boss' son, but as one of other guys, and I cleaned the dirty containers every Saturday afternoon.
