Question: My partner's parents decided to help with all the planning and set up for his sister's wedding. I am sure part of the reason was because they had offered to foot part of the expenses. There came a point in the planning, when his mom seemed to sort of run-amok with her ideas. His sister ended up accepting some plans for her wedding that I don't think she was really that fond of, but she went along with them anyways. One of the things that stands out the most to me, was this idea that they would make a large wooden box with a hole in it, and people would smash their dinner plates into the box. Then the fragments of the broken plates would be put into metal keepsake tins for the guests to take home. (The tins were cute, the trash inside seemed very weird to me.) So imagine it's the evening of your wedding reception, and people are in a corner of the room smashing their plates into a box. And then part of your wedding party is supposed to go in the back and fix up the tins of broken ceramic ware. It was like an exercise in how to needlessly generate extra stress hormones in a large room full of people. My partner's sister looked like she cringed every time someone threw a plate in the box. It is weird (and wasteful) to propose to break brand new plates for a tradition that isn't even part of your ancestry. It's weird to railroad the people getting married into accepting to do things they don't really want. Soon after that, my partner's mother offered that she would be happy to help us plan and throw our wedding too, just like they did for his sister. I think the experience made us both content to elope. According to the above context, answer the following question. Who does not want mother to help plan a wedding?
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- The brother
- The dad
- The partner
Answer: not enough information

input with options: I'm not good at sticking to the rules, not even the ones I set myself. I'm really terrible with the rules set by others, especially companies. Even as a child, I could never stay inside the lines in colouring books. Some of you might put this down to poor hand-eye coordination, but I maintain that I was a rule-breaker right from the beginning. One of my roles as an engineer with a multiplicity of companies was to set up projects, define the scope of the work, contract the work out and manage the project. I was setting up a robot-based manufacturing cell for the company in the business of making early cellphones. The cell design required some equipment to be designed and built from scratch, so I got a local designer, Fergus, to give me a quote and got him started on the work. Now, any project will run over budget and take longer than planned and the contractor may come back for more money. And so it was with this designer; he wasn't really vocal about it, but he indicated that the work did take a lot more time and expense than he's originally budgeted. My usual reaction to these things is that this is not my problem. Most of the companies I've work for have lost money, so why should I give a rat's ass if some other company comes up a little short? In this case though, I liked Fergus and, as he was really a one-man operation, I decided to cut him some slack. But first, I had to get permission from my boss to drop another few grand into Fergus's jeans. My boss refused. Having someone tell me I can't do something really brings out my dark side; especially around the time of the full moon. Not long before, we had just waved a fond(-ish) farewell to our president as he was going on to greener fields. As a parting gift, the company bought him either a boat or a motor home, I forget which, and equipped it with three of their cell phones. According to the above context, answer the following question. Where did the president go on to greener fields?
OPTIONS:
- Atlanta
- Mars
- not enough information
- the Moon
output: not enough information

Q: "To be real honest, Jeffrey, you're not making much progress," said Greg. "Are you practicing at all?" "Well, yeah. Mom makes me. She sits there watching to make sure I'm getting the right fingering and phrasing." "Hmm. I might need to talk to her about that." Greg hated when kids were forced into musicianship. He had been teaching private music lessons for more than ten years, and had seen it often. Parents made their kids miserable. It rarely worked anyway. "You don't really want to take piano, do you?" "No, Sir." "Well... " "I wish my mom would let me take guitar lessons. That would be cool." "You know you'd get calluses like this." Greg held out left hand and showed Jeffrey his fingertips. "Yeah! My friend, Zach, has calluses. They're hard like plastic." "Well, you know, it hurts for a while--until you build them up." "I don't care. I love the guitar. I've been begging Mom to switch me from piano to guitar." "I'll talk to her." "Great! I already have a guitar and--" "--don't get too excited yet. We'll see what she says." "Thanks, Mr. Tenorly." He jumped up and ran for the front door. Then he stopped, rushed back over to grab his piano books, and raced out the door. Greg's 3:30 lesson had been cancelled, so he now had a thirty minute break. Oftentimes, during a break, he would step outside and wander down the sidewalk, observing the townspeople going in and out of the shops around Coreyville Square. But something was bugging him. His dad's birthday party was only a few days away. He hoped he wouldn't regret letting Cynthia talk him into going. According to the above context, answer the following question. How long was Greg's break?

OPTIONS:
- All day
- not enough information
- Half hour
- 10 minutes

A:
Half hour