Glove

in an alternate universe, gloves obtain hands that fit into them. they usually choose children's hands, because they take a lot of time to grow out of the glove, and gloves do not just want to throw away a perfectly good hand. a glove will often trade hands with another glove if its own hand is getting too large for it. this way, no hand is wasted, and no glove is left empty. the glove/hand relationship is a symbiotic one, where the glove feeds off of dead skin cells, and the hand is kept warm and comfortable. the glove is sustained indefinitely, while the hand is given a pleasant place to stay. in this way, the glove/hand relationship is mutually beneficial and is one of the true wonders of the natural world.

»Gloves are perfect.«

After removing items with sharp edges from the Hubble telescope, the spacewalker confirmed that the capture unit had been successful in protecting him.

If you're in a snowball fight, gloves keep your hands from getting cold, but also make it nearly impossible to smush down a new snowball properly. They kinda mess up your aim, too...

in an alternate universe, gloves obtain hands that fit into them. they usually choose children's hands, because they take a lot of time to grow out of the glove, and gloves do not just want to throw away a perfectly good hand. a glove will often trade hands with another glove if its own hand is getting too large for it. this way, no hand is wasted, and no glove is left empty. the glove/hand relationship is a symbiotic one, where the glove feeds off of dead skin cells, and the hand is kept warm and comfortable. the glove is sustained indefinitely, while the hand is given a pleasant place to stay. in this way, the glove/hand relationship is mutually beneficial and is one of the true wonders of the natural world.

When I was little and I used to go outside to play in the snow, my gloves would always end up completely soaking wet. It was never quite clear whether the moisture came from sweat or from melted snow. Perhaps the best part of a snow day came when I would sit on the stairs in my sweats, hair matted down and steaming cup of cocoa in my smelly, prune hands.