2018 is a congressional election year in the United States, and President Donald Trump is urging his supporters to get motivated to vote as both parties prepare for November. "The people who voted for us become complacent a little bit, they are happy," Trump told supporters during a recent speech on tax reform in Cincinnati. "They sort of take it for granted, they sit back and then they get clobbered because the other people are desperate and they get out, and they have more energy." Trump predicted that Republicans will do better than expected in November when all 435 seats in the House of Representatives are at stake and 34 of the 100 Senate seats. "I think because of what we've done, because of the tremendous success we've had, I have a feeling that we are going to do incredibly well in '18, and I have to say this, history is not on our side," he said. The president is right. History is not on his side. Midterms are typically unkind to the president's party, which on average loses about 30 House seats and a handful of Senate seats. The losses are worse if the president's approval rating is below 50 percent, which could be the case this year. Trump's approval rating has ticked up in recent weeks, but the average has him just above 40 percent, not a strong position with a midterm looming. "You know, you have a very unpopular president. And if Democrats take a broad path, they should win lots and lots of seats," said Jim Kessler of Third Way, a center-left advocacy and research organization. Gallup has noted historically that presidents with an approval rating above 50 percent lose an average of 14 House seats in midterms, while those below 40 percent can expect to lose about 36 seats. Democrats need to gain 24 seats in the House and two seats in the Senate to regain the majority in both chambers. According to the above context, answer the following question. How much money does Macron probably have?
OPTIONS:
- he enjoys his visit to the US
- he likes reporters
- he has dandruff
- not enough information

Answer: he has dandruff

That day, my mother picked me up from school, wearing the yellow sundress and shawl I remembered from our trip with Father the year before. She looked just like she did most days back then--a glamour queen, a movie star ("Just like Lena Horne," my friend Chloe had once said, "only darker--oh, sorry, Leah!"), but today her beauty somehow had a harder, more defiant edge to it. I could smell the expensive Dior perfume as soon as I opened the door, which surprised me, because my mom was usually fastidious about not getting perfume on her clothes. She was wearing her bug glasses--huge dark things with lenses that bulged out like fly eyes and reflected my face like a fun-house mirror. She had tied a yellow silk scarf around her hair and was taking deep pulls on a cigarette held between two immaculately manicured fingers. Only I knew about the nicotine stains she carefully covered with her special order "forest sable" cream each morning. Tiffany, a stupid but vicious senator's daughter who I had the misfortune of sharing a classroom with, suddenly dashed from inside the school, her face flushed. "Hello, Mrs. Wilson," she called. Before my mother could respond, she giggled and ran back to three of her friends waiting beyond the door. I could hear them laughing, but I was glad I couldn't understand their words. They were all fascinated with my mother--the black housekeeper who dressed like Katharine Hepburn and drove a Cadillac, whose daughter's "light toffee" skin indicated that she might just like her coffee with a lot of cream. Sometimes I hated those girls. "Get in the car, Leah," my mother said. Her already husky voice was pitched low, as though she'd been crying. That made me nervous. Why was she here? "Ma, Chloe was going to show me her dad's new camera. Can't I go home on the bus?" My mom pulled on the cigarette until it burned the filter, and then ground it into the car ashtray--already filled with forty or so butts. She always emptied out the ashtray each evening. According to the above context, answer the following question. What color shoes was Mrs. Wilson wearing?
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Black
- Forest Sable
- Yellow

Answer: not enough information

My then-teenage daughter and I went to a new restaurant. It was empty apart from the manager. We were told to find ourselves a table, so we sat in an attractive area sort of like a small stage. No waitress came by for 10 minutes, so we decided to visit the restroom; there was just one, with one toilet. But a woman rushed in ahead of us, carrying a bundle of clothes. Several minutes later, when she reappeared, we realized this was our waitressarriving late and pushing us customers out of the way so she could change. OK We each used the restroom and returned to our table. But it was not our table anymore. Along came the manager to explain she needed to set aside the stage-like area for a very special group. My daughter and I had already been debating whether to stay or leave. We stayed only because we were very hungry and worried that we'd have to start waiting all over again if we tried a different place. We were led to our new table: a lonely little table in the hall leading to the toilet. I was ready to get out of there, pronto, but my daughter spotted her favorite meal on the menu. But after another 15 minutes, with the lone waitress not appearing, we both shook our heads and got up Oh, here's the waitress! We ordered. Fifteen minutes later, no food. We got up again and exited past the stage-like area, which was just as empty as it had been when we were ejected. The very special people had not arrivedso (had we been served) we could have enjoyed our meal right there. We did find food elsewhere. The first place closed in less than a month. Good riddance! According to the above context, answer the following question. What meal did the daughter order?
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- spaghetti and garlic bread
- pizza
- Macaroni and cheese

Answer:
not enough information