Question: Nothing I can think of. I've unwittingly embarrassed my daughter by stopping by my daughter's place too often to drop things off, I guess. I guess I embarrassed my daughter when she was living with her boyfriend by stopping by with healthy food and favorites groceries and other things I thought she needed and might like. The boyfriend always told me the groceries were a help. My daughter complained she already had too many clothes and if I tried to surprise her with something new. I think my husband and I embarrass our daughter now practically no matter what we do just because we're parents and maybe because we're older in our 60's and too happy to see her and too eager to please and we inadvertently treat our daughter like she is still a kid although she will be 22. I've never had a deliberate favorite thing to do except maybe by accident when I used to share too many photos of the cats when I used to be on FB? Parents can't help but embarrass their children beyond a certain age maybe? I can picture if we had an in the ground pool and my husband and I were continually doing silly moves and cannon ball jumping in I think or even simply lazing around in ridiculous color and style too teeny bathing suits for our age that too would embarrass my daughter. When push comes to shove parents like myself don't have to be too inventive or think much to come up with things they might do that embarrass their kids. My daughter told me she could not stand to go to the movies with me because I used to cry during movies. She never forgets one time I got emotional during a movie "Spirit" my husband and I took her to when she was little. I tried to hide this but my husband blurted out "You aren't crying, are you" like it was the dumbest thing to do and for the entire movie going audience to hear. Sheesh! Question: What did the narrator bring to her daughter? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Healthy food and groceries.
- Bathing suits.
- A movie.
Answer: Healthy food and groceries.

input with options: "That's Glenn Miller," my father said. "But it can't be." He had the back of the hospital bed cranked upright, the lower lid of his left eye creeping up in a warning signal I'd learned to recognize as a child. My older sister Ann had settled deep in the recliner, and she glared at me too, blaming me for winding him up. The jam box sat on the rolling tray table and my father was working the remote as he talked, backing up my newly burned CD and letting it spin forward to play a few seconds of low fidelity trombone solo. "You know the tune, of course," he said. "'King Porter Stomp.'" Those childhood years of listening to him play Glenn Miller on the console phonograph were finally paying off. "He muffed the notes the same way on the Victor version." "So why can't it be Miller?" I asked. "He wouldn't have played with a rabble like that." The backup musicians teetered on the edge of chaos, playing with an abandon somewhere between Dixieland and bebop. "They sound drunk." My father had a major emotional investment in Miller. He and my mother had danced to the Miller band at Glen Island Casino on Long Island Sound in the summer of 1942, when they were both sixteen. That signature sound of clarinet and four saxes was forever tied up for him with first love and the early, idealistic months of the war. But there was a better reason why it couldn't have been Miller playing that solo. If the date on the original recording was correct, he was supposed to have died three days earlier. The date was in India ink on a piece of surgical tape, stuck to the top of a spool of recording wire. The handwritten numerals had the hooks and day-first order of Europe: 18/12/44. I'd won it on eBay the week before as part of a lot that included a wire recorder and a stack of 78s by French pop stars like Charles Trenent and Edith Piaf. Question: Who is the most concerned about the father's health? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Ann
- The narrator
- Glenn Miller
- not enough information
output: Ann

Q: One student started packing up at the beginning of a lab exercise. I asked him where he was going. He said "I'm going to fail this class anyway, so I have other things to do." It was true that he wasn't doing well, and we had addressed this previously, but his attitude was completely defeatist. He had given up. So, there, in the middle of class, before he could get away, I said "Well, yeah. You will certainly fail if you don't even try. I thought you were graduating at the end of this semester." "I'm supposed to, but I won't, because I'm going to fail physics. All I need is a D." (He was right; his major didn't require knowing any physics but they put it in the curriculum as a kind of gatekeeper course. Most students took physics much earlier in their studies than he did.) "If you have already decided to fail, I can't stop you; you're an adult. But you can make an appointment with me anytime. You already know that. You can email me. It's my job to help you understand, but you have to come to me. You are an adult. It would be very inappropriate of me to follow you around, inviting you to office hours. And you must do the homework and the labs." He stayed for the lab. I notified his counselor about what was going on, and she called him in and said the same things that I said. Next class he moved from the seat at the edge of my peripheral vision, to the middle, started working his ass off, and he passed. For a while I thought he was closing in on a C, but he got his D and graduated. And I didn't give him anymore of a grading break than I give any of my students. Question: What nationality is the student === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- African American
- Native American
- Caucasian
- not enough information

A:
not enough information