Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.

Input: Consider Input: Zoos are not my favorite places.
I always wish the animals could be free.
I can't think of anything "funny" I have seen at the zoo exactly although there has to be something…. we used to go to Catskill Game Farm and Bronx Zoo in NY so I am sure there has to have been something notable, if not funny…. At Catskill Game Farm there were Peacocks that walked around free and made startling noises. There were also punk flamingoes there that were amazing to see. Maybe the funniest (not so funny though) thing was in the area where you could feed deer and baby pigs so sometimes they'd all come around at once and mob you? My daughter wanted to feed who she wanted to feed but the deer and the pigs had their own ideas. The deer liked these crackers kind of like rye crisps and the baby pigs went for the bottles of milk or formula. When my daughter tried to pick and choose and just feed one suddenly she would be surrounded by many. I think my husband must have videos of what transpired. One of these days it might be entertaining to view them again.
At the Bronx Zoo I remember going one or more years during the winter to see the animal light sculptures and huge block ice carving and the penguins and polar bears maybe? I can't remember anything funny happening.
When we went out to San Diego around years ago during a business trip my husband got to go on then my daughter and I went with him. I took my daughter to the Zoo and Sea World but she was so young then and it was so long ago I can't recall much except standing on line to see the pandas and just collapsing on a open type tour after trying to carry her and a collapsible stroller and diaper bag all around. She was so young but seemed to enjoy jumping on some bouncy trampoline type thing at the Sea World.
My husband might remember the funny things better than I do. Question: Who wanted to feed the deer and baby pigs?

Output: The author's daughter


Input: Consider Input: I woke at dawn when Digger climbed over me to get out of bed, and I woke again an hour later when Pa called, "Everyone up who wants breakfast!" Across the room, Little Bit was dressing in a T-shirt and jeans that had been mine a year before. Ma had put a stack of clean clothes at the foot of the bed for me. I dressed without caring what I put on. The only important items were my cowboy boots and my Roy Rogers belt with two holsters for cap guns, even though I only had one cap gun left, and its trigger was broken.
When I used the toilet, I sat on the front edge of the seat, watching the water beneath me, and scooted off as soon as I was done. I had seen a cartoon in a book at Grandpa Abner's that showed a fish leaping out of a toilet bowl and a woman staring at it with big eyes. I thought that was funny and I knew it was impossible, but I didn't think there was any reason to take chances.
Ma called, "Little Bit has to use the bathroom."
I yelled, "I'm almost done."
Ma called, "Are you off the toilet?"
I yelled, "Yes!" Ma opened the door and brought Little Bit in. Squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush, I said, "I wasn't done yet."
Ma said, "Your father's making breakfast in the restaurant." That meant we should hurry, so I slid the brush over my teeth while Little Bit sat next to the sink, and then I ran out of the house.
Stepping into the sunlight was stepping into Florida. I didn't smell oranges -- Ma had explained that oranges grew further south -- but I smelled a humid pinelands that was not like the New Orleans suburb I had known. Question: Who needed to hurry in the bathroom?

Output: The narrator and Little Bit.


Input: Consider Input: Jimbob Blakey wasn't so much given birth to as clambered right out of his mother himself. He weighed in at almost thirteen pounds, came ready-fitted with a shock of fat black hair and a couple of razor teeth. Jimbob's folks loved him like most folks love their little ones, maybe more. They'd been trying so hard for a child, suffered more mid-term miscarriages than the ewes they shuttled off to market most Thursdays. They dressed him in a one-year babygro and took him home to their hill farm. They fought to get up nights and give him his milk. His teeth made breast-feeding impossible. They sat hours gazing down in his cot. They dressed him fine and took him to their church and gave their thanks. Showed him off like the proud parents they were. Others cooed and smiled. But they never asked to hold. They gave thanks the Blakeys were happy, and that the monkey-baby had not been born to them. Jimbob's folks never gave a second thought that their boy might be different. The first Spring he walked, he stomped the moors in his welly-boots helping herd the pregnant ewes down in-by. He copied his father, kicking and cuffing at the stragglers, when the flock was returned to the hills in May. As Jimbob grew, his hair became thicker, his arms longer. His head shrunk down on his shoulders. At check-ups, nurses fixed smiles and pronounced him healthy. Doctors said, 'he'll make you a strapping lad.' His mother smiled, her heart swelled. When he was three, she sent him to nursery. She wanted him to mix with other kids. To taste life off the hard hills. She said, 'it'll do him the world of good.' Jimbob hated leaving the farm. He clung to his mother. She drove away, blinking tears. On the third day, she took a phone call. 'It's Jimbob,' they said. 'He's scaring the other kids.'The truth hit Jimbob's mother like a hammer. Question: Who weighed almost thirteen pounds at birth?


Output: Jimbob


