My father lost something valuable to him that didn't resurface for years after his death. My dad was a World War II veteran and an officer. All officers were issued the classic Ray Ban sunglasses with the wraparound wire rims. He wore them almost all the time for the next thirty years after the War, then one day in the 1970's, he misplaced them. He was heartbroken, crestfallen, that he lost something he cherished from his military servicethe symbolic military issue Bausch & Lombs coveted by every officer who served. I wanted so badly to be my dad's Hero. I overturned every piece of furniture in the house, rifled every dresser drawer, every nook and crannie, underneath beds, the garage, the yard, you name it. I was on a Mission. I wanted to walk up to him and say, beaming, Here Dad! I found your sunglasses! But alas, after several weeks, no success. I was crushed by my own failure. He passed away, and his possessions were divided among our family. Fast forward to a few years ago. My Cocker Spaniel was sniffing around in the bathroom, and a box fell out of the bathroom closet with a crash. I went to investigate and chide the dogwhen the first thing I saw on the bathroom floor next to the overturned box was the yellowed leather case, and his wire rim sunglasses. I picked it up, held it in my hand, and I, a grown man, immediately burst into tears, sobbing. Suddenly, I was nineteen again. My wife asked what was the matter, and I told her the whole story. I figured after his passing, his sunglasseswhich evidently were in the house the whole timewere probably tossed into one of many anonymous cardboard boxes, and I happened to be the one who carried off the box containing them. So here Dad! I found your sunglasses! I love you! Am I still your hero? According to the above context, answer the following question. How does the author feel about finding his dad's sunglasses?
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Angry
- Excited
- Scared

Answer: Excited

Question: I was once distinctly unsettled by a utility man who called to read the gas meter. We were living in an old house at the time and I was home alone with the youngest child (who was around six months old), balanced on my hip as I opened the door. The visitor looked genuine, dressed in the expected uniform. He was around 6.3 and probably not the most tidily presented utility man I'd met, but I believed him to be genuine and willingly invited him in out of the foul weather. It was pouring down outside, a freezing cold winter's day. As I closed the door I remembered that I should have asked to see his company I.D. , so as I opened the meter cupboard and switched on the light, I politely said, 'Oops, I should have asked to see your I.D. if you don't mind?. He stood there in front of the door and made no move to produce his card or do anything in fact. He just glared down at me in the most menacing way and said in a very sinister voice 'Isn't it a little bit late for that now? What are you going to do if I tell you I don't have it?'. There was an embarrassed silence. He continued to stare down at me without making a move for what seemed like minutes but was probably seconds. He didn't produce his I.D., instead he almost grudgingly read the meter as I looked on and then he swiftly left without saying goodbye. I closed the door and locked it, and then took a while to get my pulse rate back to normal and to realise I'd just learned a very big lesson. Such a creepy individual, I didn't make that mistake again. According to the above context, answer the following question. What is probably true of the utility man?
OPTIONS:
- He is not a very nice human being.
- He has marital issues.
- not enough information
- He has mental issues.
Answer: He is not a very nice human being.

Question: As a day trip from Brussels (only a half hour train), I've found that either many people haven't heard of Ghent, preferring to explore the chocolate box streets of Bruges, or they adore Ghent so much that when a blogger (me) visits, they spam them via instastories with recollections of days spent there and memories made. True story. Disclaimer: I was a press guest of VisitFlanders in Ghent, but all planning, mischief and thoughts are all mine. We fell into the former camp on our trip to Brussels and explored Bruges, but genuinely regretted only being able to fit one city in, vowing to return one day. Luckily an invite to explore Ghent appeared in my email inbox, so I gleefully accepted, hopping on the Eurostar one sleepy morning, and spending a long weeked gambolling through the streets (under blues skies and then grey clouds.) As guests of the tourism board, we were given city passes which allowed us to hop on the local transport (trams & busses), pop in and out of the museums and climb aboard a canal cruise, exploring the city by water. GALAVANT THROUGH THE GRAVESTEEN We didn't galavant so much as gallop up through the castle, so intent we were on completing a challenge to the top, but strolled back down through exhibitions. The exhibits share the history of The quintessential 12th-century stone castle, which comes complete with moat, turrets and arrow slits. And the view from atop the towers? Well, it's ok I guess. HOP ONTO A CANAL CRUISE Sit back, relax, and let the world glide by. The 40-minute tour included in the city card takes in the city by canal, led by a knowedgable driver/guide and is a lovely way to get to know the city a little bit better. There are also other operators, a couple of whom offer picnics as you float through the medieval city. According to the above context, answer the following question. When did the narrator find out people haven't heard of Ghent?
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Before visiting the castle
- During a day trip from Brussels
- Before hopping on a canal cruise
Answer:
During a day trip from Brussels