righty tighty

My husband relies on his reading glasses.
When the tiny screw holding an ear piece in place fell out it was a mournful moment.
You can't make a quick trip to the optometrist for repairs if you are hunkered down, social distancing.
We peered at the carpet. Well, I peered. My husband needs reading glasses to peer.
We got down on our hands and knees.
We got out the flashlight.
We used the light on our cellphones.
We slid our hands over the carpet searching by braille but to no avail.

I have a pair of reading glasses that is missing a lens.
It is now also missing a teeny tiny screw.
Of course, to transfer that little screw from one frame to the other, we had to find a screwdriver first that was also teeny tiny.
Hazah!!!
I knew just where to find one.
I had just finished sorting and organizing.
Now when does life stand and sing in unison like that I ask.
Not too often but as I held the old frames and twizzled out the needed screw I felt grateful.
"Maybe you should do that over a plate or something in case you...," he suggested.
".....drop it."
Which of course I did, right on cue.
More peering.
More flashing light and fingertips on carpet.
The vacuum roared over the floor.
The dust as fine as cornstarch was dumped onto a bag and more braille ensued.
A crumb.
A crumb.
Yep.
There it was.
I washed it so carefully.
Gadzooks.
And managed to balance the teeny tiny screw point in the right spot whilst turning the teeny tiny screwdriver.
Is it righty tighty lefty loosey?
Yes, thank goodness.
I tweaked it into place and my husband can peer now too.
He is wood carving today.
He doesn't need his glasses for that.