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! According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: What is probably true about the narrator's daughter? Options: - She is easily embarrassed. - She is mad at her mother. - not enough information - She doesn't like to go to the movies.
She is easily embarrassed.

PAUL Reynolds doodled idly on a bar napkin as he sipped at his margarita. All around him tourists of every size and shape were donning paper pirate hats and plastic eye patches. They were part of a relatively new Key West tradition called the Booty Hunt - a glorified bar crawl where participants followed a "treasure map" that led them from bar to bar, with occasional stops in private homes, and where the chief treasure to be found was the pleasure of being surrounded by fellow drunks and saying "Arrrr" a lot. Paul had participated a few times himself and was kind of embarrassed at how much fun it was. His pen drew a rough sketch of the crowd, although in his version they were actual pirates, in full dress with real swords and pistols and parrots. He took another sip and glanced around the bar, wondering where his drinking companion had gotten to. It was still early - just an hour or so after sunset, and Crooked Pete's was only half full. Located on Simonton, a block off the tourist-choked sidewalks of Duval Street, the bar hadn't hit its stride for the evening yet. The real crowd and the regulars would come later, once they had gotten a bite to eat and were ready for some serious, cheap drinking. He saw his friend Sandee emerge - finally - from the bathroom, smiling at Paul from across the bar while maneuvering through the gaggle of barhopping buccaneers. Thick, cascading black curls complemented Sandee's black sequined mini-dress that clung to every slim curve and emphasized shapely breasts. Sandee winked at one of the tourists, blowing the man a kiss as he ogled in naked admiration. "Did you miss me?" Sandee asked, sitting down beside Paul. "Of course," Paul replied, sliding another margarita to Sandee. "But your drink missed you more. All your ice is melting." "Oh, the poor darlings," Sandee cooed, licking the salt on the rim suggestively before taking a long swallow that emptied a third of the contents. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: What did Sandy drink? Options: - something hot - something salty - something spicy - not enough information
something salty

Q: "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. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: Who is played the trombone if Miller did not? Options: - Someone from India - Another band member - A drunk, bebop musician. - not enough information
A: not enough information