input with options: My fraternal twins were born 2 months early. The staff had already stopped premature labor at six months gestation but it proceeded too quickly this time. Total labor 2.5 hours. Needless to say, they were tiny - female 2 lbs. 3 oz, male 3 lbs. 10 oz. Female was born dark blue - luckily, I was at the finest maternity hospital in this half of the State (McGee Women's). They brought the female around to breathing, while I cried, thinking that she was dead. The twins were rushed to the NICU, too tiny to breast feed except with pumped milk through a feeding tube. Both were watched closely by doctors and nurses as they were not passing waste properly. The day it was decided that the male needed surgery, the female was discharged to home. The male was transferred to another very good hospital for surgery for a temporary colostomy. He was discharged to home after a week. What broke my heart was that I was allowed to visit him in the hospital but his older brother and twin sister were not allowed. Prior to his discharge, the staff instructed me in changing and maintaining his colostomy bag on a daily basis. He kept the colostomy bag until he was about 5 months old; back into the hospital for the colostomy reversal. The sign that I hung above their shared playpen said "Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me stronger". How did I cope with it? Mostly alone. The hospital offered group sessions for parents of severely premature infants. During the very first session, I had a zen realization that, once I realized that the circumstances were out of my control, I GAINED control of myself and my life. A bit like the Serenity Prayer. I shared that epiphany with the group and they looked at me like I had two heads. I had never heard of the Serenity Prayer and I'd been an atheist since age 13, so religion was not my go-to then, nor is it now. That realization helped. The twins are 37 now. According to the above context, answer the following question. Where did the babies have to go
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- The grocery store
- The NICU
- Heaven
output: The NICU

Q: "Congratulations, jackass, you just got us sued." My editor, Sharon, was standing in front of my desk. She was apparently not happy. I shrugged, slouching further down in my chair, trying to hide from her gigantic crazy eyes behind my computer. It was a white laptop with a sticker that said "This Machine Kills Yuppies" slapped over the corporate logo on back. She reached out with one of her freakish man-hands and slammed the screen shut. "Let me try this again. You just got us sued six times over." Sharon Sinclair was a six-foot-tall beast of a woman with a huge mane of wiry black and gray hair pulled back in a pony tail. I had every confidence that she could tear me in two and use my bloody carcass in some kinky hedonistic lesbian cult ritual or something. So I usually tried to choose my words with the appropriate care around her. "Jesus-fucking-Christ, I haven't even had my morning coffee yet, and my head's still reeling from the Louisville Slugger that pummeled it last night. So I really don't feel like dealing with whatever annoying hormonal episode you have going on here." She glared at me silently, watching me squirm a little before asking, "Are you done?" "Probably." "Good," she said with a suppressed grin as she took a seat next to me. "Because I just let you publicly accuse the mayor and the valley's most powerful corporations of conspiring to defraud the taxpayers. So what's your plan for keeping my ass off the firing line?" I tilted back in my chair and met Sharon's gaze. "Look, we knew we'd get a strong reaction. Let them sue. We have e-mails to back us up." "These legal briefings say your e-mails were forged," she responded, waving a thick stack of papers in my face. "Of course they're gonna say that. That's why I made sure to get corroboration. Abrasax confirmed that the e-mails between Dylan Maxwell and City Hall are legit. But you know all this, so I don't know why we're wasting time going over it again." According to the above context, answer the following question. What tone did the narrator use when responding to Sharon?

OPTIONS:
- timid
- not enough information
- scared
- brash

A: brash

A long time ago, when humans still lived in cities, on a cold morning near the end of a long, cruel winter, in magnificent Central Park in the middle of magnificent New York City, a young squirrel named Patch was awakened very early by the growls of his empty stomach. A squirrel's home is called a drey. Patch's drey was very comfortable. He lived high up an old oak tree, in a hollowed-out stump of a big branch that had long ago been cut off by humans. The entrance was only just big enough for Patch to squeeze in and out, but the drey itself was spacious, for a squirrel. Patch had lined his drey with dry leaves, grasses and bits of newspaper. It was warm and dry, and on that cold morning he would have liked nothing better than to stay home all day and sleep. But he was so hungry. Hunger filled him like water fills a glass. The cherry and maple trees had not yet started to bud; flowers had not yet begun to grow; the juicy grubs and bugs of spring had not yet emerged; and it had been two days since Patch had found a nut. Imagine how hungry you would feel if you went two whole days without eating, and you may have some idea how Patch felt that morning. Patch poked his head out of the drey into the cold air and shivered as he looked around. Clumps of white, crumbly ice still clung to the ground. Gusts of cold wind shook and rustled the trees' bare branches. The pale and distant sun seemed drained of heat. Patch took a moment to satisfy himself that there were no dangers nearby, no hawk circling above or unleashed dog below. Then he emerged from his drey and began to look for acorns. But what marvels, what miracles, what mysteries are hidden inside those simple words! According to the above context, answer the following question. When was the last time it snowed?

OPTIONS:
- a day ago
- not enough information
- a month ago
- 2 weeks ago

Answer:
not enough information