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: The author thought mothers grocery list was like what? Options: - easy to understand list - detailed check list - ordering unknown chemicals in a lab - not enough information === The correct answer is
ordering unknown chemicals in a lab

Chloe's house reminded Paul of a cross between a used bookstore, a computer repair shop, and a college dorm. A wall of bookcases dominated the living room, each shelf crammed with two, sometimes three layers of books, videotapes, CD's and DVD's. More stacks of books and magazines stood in every corner. Paul was certain they would have taken over all the other flat spaces as well, were it not for the half-assembled computers and three dusty old monitors occupying the coffee table, end tables, and everything in between. The only semi-open spaces were the two couches that faced each other from across the room. A large red and black checkered blanket covered one of them, while the other was cracked but still serviceable brown leather. Thrift store purchases both, Paul thought. "The computer stuff belongs to one of my roommates," Chloe said. "She's always fiddling with those things to get better performance or whatever. The books are mostly mine or my other roommate, Kurt's. Come on into the kitchen and we'll rustle up a sandwich." Paul followed her back into the open kitchen area, which (given that he was ostensibly here to have lunch) he was relieved to see was clean. There was clutter in there certainly, but no dirty dishes or leftover foodstuffs appeared in evidence. Along the left wall was a cheap, plastic patio table with long wooden benches on each side and miss-matched chairs at either end. Newspapers, books, and a laptop occupied most of its surface area, but the end closest to Paul seemed clear enough to see actual use as a place for dining. "Is peanut butter ok?" she asked, motioning him towards one of the chairs. "Sure," he said and sat down at the table. As she started to prepare a couple of peanut butter sandwiches on white bread she said, "So, tell me Paul, why are you getting fired tomorrow?" Question: What did Chloe make for them to eat? Options: - not enough information - Soup - Sandwiches - Peanut butter smoothies === The correct answer is
Sandwiches

Q: I used to work as a Certified Nurse Assistant at this rehabilitation/skilled nursing facility. I just started my shift that afternoon, got endorsements from the previous shift, and prepared myself to meet my residents. One of my residents that day was post-op total knee replacement. I went to her room, introduced myself as her CNA, and asked her if she needed anything before I leave her room. And then, she told me she's having a hard time using the commode the previous nurses gave her when she was admitted to our facilty as it was very small for her given the fact that she also had a recent TKA (total knee arthroplasty). Because of this, I told her I'll do my best to look for a commode that will fit her. I looked in our two storage areas and fortunately, I found one that was perfect for her! Voila! I disinfected it really well and returned to her room with her new commode. Her face immediately lighted up when she saw what I was carrying and she started tearing up! Startled by her reaction, I asked her what's wrong and why was she crying. And then she told me she's been asking the previous shifts for two days and no one's bringing the right commode for her. They kept on telling they're going to bring her a new one, but they probably ended up forgetting her request. She was so ecstatic! I helped her try the commode and it really was perfect for her and she didn't have a hard time using it. She thanked me so much, and oh, it was mother's day that day! She told me one of the most touching thing, "happy Mother's day to your Mom and thank your Mom for me. She raised you really well." I had no idea a simple commode can bring so much joy to my resident. Small things really do matter! Question: When did the resident ask the CNA for a new commode? Options: - During Valentine's Day - not enough information - During Father's Day - During Mother's Day === The correct answer is
A: During Mother's Day