Paris! Anime Convention panic! Paris! Ahhh!
But Paris was so absolutely beautiful. It's almost not fair. Seriously, it's gorgeous even in a torrential downpour. And I said to Mom, "It's a good thing that we have all those beautiful colours in the fall or we'd never get any tourism. Ever." She agreed. What really struck me was just how old everything was. Notre Dame is going on 850, which is twice as old as people have been coming to Canada. And there's so many everyday buildings that date black to the 1700s. Like, these people have had this kind of architecture when eventually-to-be Canadians were living in huts and using mud as an insulator.
Anyway, on with the Adventures of Gladys!
SHIELD Recruit Survival Tip Number 22
Agent Coulson is not a robot. Do not throw magnets at him to see if they stick.
Dr Banner and Mr Stark's little 'experiment' of shoving me off the helicarrier to test water sledding left me with two broken fingers, another four sprained, an unhappy tendon in my left wrist, and a right thumb that kept doing this weird 'clicky' thing.
This left me pretty much useless for changing sheets. That's why I was reassigned to day care aid, at least until the splints came off.
This one day, I was helping out the Grade Two group. They had spent the morning sculpting magnets carefully from that home-use clay stuff. Since I wasn't a licensed childcare practitioner, it fell to me to get the clay to and from the kitchens. My plastic tray was covered in magnets, and goodness were they still radiating a lot of heat.
It was during one such escort that I heard footsteps behind me, and I smiled at Agent Coulson as I did a one-eighty to open the door.
"Thank you very much Agent Scott," he said as he passed.
"You're welcome," I replied, and promptly tripped. Some magnets and bits of stupidly hot ceramic failed to launch and resigned themselves to blistering my hands. Most however went flying through the air, and like a hail of volcanic debris, descended upon Agent Coulson.
And stuck.
Fancy that.
"I still say he's the Terminator," said Agent Blake, "Because silver isn't magnetic."
I had a nurse on each hand and burns up to my wrists.
"The fact he has custom suits does not make him a futuristic killing machine," I replied with an eye roll.
"He could be a vampire hunter," said Agent White.
"The silver is /thread/. How could he get some out in time to do anything?" They're being ridiculous, I thought.
Both agents looked at me with big eyes.
"He could," said Agent White.
"Don't question it, just accept that he can and does," added Agent Blake.
"You know all this about him yet you still think he could be a Terminator or a vampire hunter," I raised an eyebrow at their expressions, "Or both? Seriously guys?" But I was a little less sure of my position. Why did the magnets stick? Either the clay itself stuck, or there was another source of metal. 'Cause his suit wouldn't have polyester, right? It's waaaay to high quality.
And then my nosed began to itch.
"I need a scratching post please."
Agent White went off in search of some Velcro she could tape to my hand. In the meantime, all RAM was diverted to relieving the irritant so other problems became so totally completely inconsequential.
Because really, Agents White and Blake were grasping at straws.
What do YOU think?
(Can't wait to read the replies for this one! I do so love hearing from you guys!)