You’re “supposed to” remember, in detail, where and when and from whom and how and … just everything … about how you acquired your favorite tool.(s.) Unfortunately, I don’t.
I just think, every time I use one of my tiny screwdrivers, “Wow, this is a really useful tool.” And just kind of throw some gratitude out into the universe toward … however I acquired them. (I think one was actually a freebie thrown in with … something.)
Regardless, they are incredibly useful. Most recently, I was waxing enthusiastic about my tiniest Phillips head screwdriver (the blue one) being so helpful in assembling the stand for my artificial Christmas tree. (It is a decent sized tree; the stand just has small screws.)
It also comes in handy for switching out switch plates and, another task popular this time of year, assembling (or disassembling) the battery compartments of toys. The fact that it is kind of creepy to have a Zhu Zhu Pet squealing “Oh, no! Help!” as you hold it upside down to deal with the battery compartment is in no way a reflection on the usefulness of the screwdriver.
The biggest problem with these tiny tools is the same one Chris Marshall has tackled in a previous blog post: the issue of getting them back. I do not, technically, loan out these tools — it probably doesn’t count as “loaning” if the other person who occasionally uses them is a spouse in the same household. But I do have to make a point of getting them back after such use.
When I get them back, they go into my secret screwdriver hiding spot, only to come out for occasions like the photograph that accompanies this post, or when I need them next. Because I will inevitably need one of these small screwdrivers — my handiest, most favorite tools.
Joanna Takes
Senior Editor
