Tom finally gave me tools of my very own. Don't see why it took him this long, but I suspect it was to keep me from "fixing" things around the house in a not-good-enough-even-for-government-work sort of way.
Whatever the reason, I have my own set of screw drivers now--the only tool besides garden tools I feel okay about using--which is rather nice. Every time I needed one before, I went down to Tom's tool box and took one, but if he was home he always gave me the third degree.
What you doing?
Why do you need that?
What did you break?
And if he's not home, I better make sure I put it back precisely as he had it or else he'll know I took it--oh, yes, trust me when I say, he always knows-- and he'll start with...
Why did you go in my tool box?
OY! Can we say a bit over-protective of our cherished tools?
Now I have my own set so his precious and precisely placed and stored tools are safe from my wanton and reckless ways. Where do I keep them? In my craft room in a nice little basket on a shelf. Okay, so it should be a tool box, but I just didn't have anything like a tool box which fit them all in without looking hideous, so a basket will have to do.
What do I care? They're just my very own tools!