Dancing the night away  It is a measure of how little control I have over my own life that in middle March I am escorting a pretty young redhead to a debutante ball.(A formal presentation of young ladies when they reach the age of maturity. This was originally used in the past to introduce young ladies to society so that they could meet a possible marriage partner , so it was for the upper class, the nobility and titled families. At a debutante ball, the expensively-dressed girls stand in a line to be introduced individually. Their fathers then walk them, arm-in-arm around the dance floor, followed by a waltz.)  "Daddy, you OK?" she asks.  "Never better," I lie.  "Good," she says, hugging my shoulder and giggling .  Generally, deb balls belong to the upper class, and that is decidedly not us. The other day, I was trying to figure out which to buy -- a garage door opener, or a DVD player. Both were broken, yet we could afford to replace only one. That's how "upper class" we are. We're more like "fixer upper class." So it's a mystery how we ended up at this deb ball. Two mothers are checking for alcohol, making sure the debs aren't drinking. Anyway, they won't let the dads eat dinner till we "present" the girls, which means we have to escort our daughters around the dance floor one by one, as the mistress of ceremonies reads out the young lady's accomplishments. "Trish plans to attend Stanford in the fall, where she will study molecular engineering in hopes of one day developing a way to help predict earthquakes." On and on these introductions go. One girl hopes to grow food on Mars. After the introductions we finally get to the Big Waltz. For the last month, the dads and daughters have all been taking lessons for the Big Waltz, under the direction of the widow of Otto von Bismarck. Fortunately, she is a people person. "Forward, BACK!" she screamed, while teaching us to waltz. Her gentle directions have worked miracles. Suddenly, on this big night, we are a well-organized team of 27 father-daughter dance pairs. Honestly, waltzing is like math, in the sense that some people never get it. The   success of this Big Waltz comes as a huge relief to the mothers, who have been planning this ceremony for six years and have been a little tense lately. In the end, everything turned out OK at the deb ball. The 27 dads developed into a fairly supportive fellowship. And the little red-haired girl? She hugged my shoulder and giggled happily, making it all -- the waltz lessons, the rental tuxedo , the 14 years of coaching softball -- worth every awful-wonderful moment. By saying "it's a mystery how we ended up at this deb ball" the writer suggests that   _  .
as a member from the upper class he can attend the ball it's the first time for him to attend such a grand ceremony the deb ball is usually held for rich families but his is not many families want to attend the ball so it wasn't easy for him to get in
Question: Dancing the night away  It is a measure of how little control I have over my own life that in middle March I am escorting a pretty young redhead to a debutante ball.(A formal presentation of young ladies when they reach the age of maturity. This was originally used in the past to introduce young ladies to society so that they could meet a possible marriage partner , so it was for the upper class, the nobility and titled families. At a debutante ball, the expensively-dressed girls stand in a line to be introduced individually. Their fathers then walk them, arm-in-arm around the dance floor, followed by a waltz.)  "Daddy, you OK?" she asks.  "Never better," I lie.  "Good," she says, hugging my shoulder and giggling .  Generally, deb balls belong to the upper class, and that is decidedly not us. The other day, I was trying to figure out which to buy -- a garage door opener, or a DVD player. Both were broken, yet we could afford to replace only one. That's how "upper class" we are. We're more like "fixer upper class." So it's a mystery how we ended up at this deb ball. Two mothers are checking for alcohol, making sure the debs aren't drinking. Anyway, they won't let the dads eat dinner till we "present" the girls, which means we have to escort our daughters around the dance floor one by one, as the mistress of ceremonies reads out the young lady's accomplishments. "Trish plans to attend Stanford in the fall, where she will study molecular engineering in hopes of one day developing a way to help predict earthquakes." On and on these introductions go. One girl hopes to grow food on Mars. After the introductions we finally get to the Big Waltz. For the last month, the dads and daughters have all been taking lessons for the Big Waltz, under the direction of the widow of Otto von Bismarck. Fortunately, she is a people person. "Forward, BACK!" she screamed, while teaching us to waltz. Her gentle directions have worked miracles. Suddenly, on this big night, we are a well-organized team of 27 father-daughter dance pairs. Honestly, waltzing is like math, in the sense that some people never get it. The   success of this Big Waltz comes as a huge relief to the mothers, who have been planning this ceremony for six years and have been a little tense lately. In the end, everything turned out OK at the deb ball. The 27 dads developed into a fairly supportive fellowship. And the little red-haired girl? She hugged my shoulder and giggled happily, making it all -- the waltz lessons, the rental tuxedo , the 14 years of coaching softball -- worth every awful-wonderful moment. By saying "it's a mystery how we ended up at this deb ball" the writer suggests that   _  .
A. as a member from the upper class he can attend the ball
B. it's the first time for him to attend such a grand ceremony
C. the deb ball is usually held for rich families but his is not
D. many families want to attend the ball so it wasn't easy for him to get in
Answer: