input with options: My mother's shopping lists were ordered by rules known only to her. As you slid your finger down the columns of groceries and toiletries, you would invariably be stopped by something along the lines of "2dozjumHerbal Essences" or "1pepperoni TC," with the "TC" underlined twice and flanked by gnarled masses of pencil scratch-outs. When we were kids, we dreaded accompanying her to Wal-Mart, or worse, the Cosco at the edge of town, where the echoing rafters and limitless aisles seemed to mock the confusion into which we were inevitably thrown when handed torn-off fragments of the list. Of course, it was easy enough to see in hindsight that "2dozjumHerbal Essences" was merely the bastard child of two drunkenly weaving columns--we had been supposed to get two dozen jumbo eggs and a bottle of my mother's favourite brand of shampoo (ever inventive in creating proprietary abbreviations--"TC" standing for, what else, thin crust pizza--my mother scrupulously wrote out brand names in full). It was a little like ordering chemicals for a laboratory, sans any knowledge of chemistry--or, for that matter, laboratories, although my ignorance of the distinction between baking soda and baking powder cannot be entirely the root of my confusion. Eventually I--and my siblings--learned the difference between tomato paste and tomato sauce, and could readily distinguish one brand of laundry detergent from a similarly-styled knock-off, but my shame-faced trips back to the mothercart never ceased. I would track her down, most often in the produce section--she was usually loath to trust us with the delicate task of selecting the very best fruits and vegetables--and hand her back my portion of the list, asking for an explanation. Usually it amounted to a failure of awareness on my part--get the kind of soap we always get, of course! Question: How many times did the author have to return to her mother for clarification? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Once.
- Three times.
- Five times.
- not enough information
output: not enough information

Q: The surgeon who had delivered my son by C-section an hour earlier stepping back from the table, and saying, "We're done, people. Good job, everyone!" That hour had been hell for everyone in the room, save only my little boy, sleeping peacefully in the warming crib, and his mother, who was just stirring from the general that had put her under about 55 minutes earlier. I had come within a few minutes, maybe seconds, of raising my boy as a single parent. Her OB/GYN had fought valliently to keep my family together, and won. Everyone who'd been awake knew exactly how close run a thing it had been. Mr. Murphy had been hanging around the whole time, and neither Doc nor mom was catching a whole lot of breaks that evening. But Doc only needed one, and he made full use thereof. One thing for all new dad's whose wives have had previous abdominal surgery. You never want to hear the muttered words, "Creative anatomy on the way out", when somebody has your wife's belly open. Those are about the worst words in the world, because they mean Doc's gotta put stuff to right in there, and he might not have what he'd like in order to get it done. But when he stands back, after the sponge count had to be done twice, and the tool count is right, and the belly is stapled closed, and everyone in the room is still breathing Just let it be known that the roving nurse has extra sponges for dad's nose. Oh yeah, and the neonatal nurses don't expect dad to change that first diaper. Maconium is nasty shit. Litterally. But I was happy to do it while talking to his groggy mom. Question: The author probably felt: === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- That his baby will not survive.
- That his wife and baby will not survive.
- That his wife will not survive the c-section
- not enough information

A: That his wife will not survive the c-section

Creating a self portrait is not your typical selfie! When I taught in the traditional classroom, creating self portraits was something I had students do whether they were four or nine. In fact, I'd have them draw one on the first day of school and one toward the end of the year and to see the change over time was always so interesting. At least once during the year, likely toward the beginning, I would center a lesson around self portraits. In younger classes, there would be more than one. Creating a self portrait teaches students to be aware of themselves. Where is her head in relation to her body? Where are her feet in relation to her legs? It also teaches children spatial awareness. Where should he beginwith his feet or with his head? Where on the paper should his head be placed? How far down should his arms go? How can his whole body fit on a single piece of paper? A Lesson on Creating Self Portraits Whether you are in a classroom, or teaching a child at home, here is a simple lesson on creating self portraits geared toward young children, anywhere from age 2 through age 6. Keep in mind that their final product will show various levels of writing development, depending on what stage of writing they are in. (Basically, a two-year-old's drawing should look very different than that of a five-year-old.) The teacher will need to model how to draw a self portrait. Gather the children around an easel or board and clip a paper to it. Narrate the process as you walk through the steps. "I am going to draw a picture of myself. I am going to start with my head." Use your hands to show your actual head on yourself so students are aware of what you talking about. The visuals also help English Language Learners (if you're teaching in an English speaking classroom.) and build vocabulary for all students. Question: When did the students do the first self portrait? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- during summer break
- toward the end of the year
- on the first day of school

Answer:
on the first day of school