One evening, at the dinner table, the girl finally burst into tears. My mother rushed to her and asked her what was wrong and the girl replied that every night my mother had been giving her the crusty end-piece of bread from the loaf, and where she lived that's what they gave to the pigs. In my house we all loved that piece and occasionally squabbled over it. The girl was getting the piece over the rest of us but she thought she was being treated like a second class citizen.
Do you like the end piece/slice from a loaf of bread?
If no, why not?