I am on a quest. A quest for pan head screws. One day ago, I was happily ignorant of pan head screws. In fact, the first time I heard their name, I called shenanigans. "Yeah. Right. PAN HEAD screws?" That's because Farmer H was the one to tell me. He is not the most reliable authority on nomenclature. I've caught him in fabrications before, too. Things he thought I was happily ignorant of, in fact. But after consulting my BFF Google, I discovered there really IS a pan head screw. They are used to hold the tops of my classroom desks to the frames.
Pan head screws are fickle.
Over the years, my desks have been through the wringer. Been written-on hard, and put away wet. Some of them have a corner of their flat-top that flaps. Well, not so much flaps, as pulls away from the frame unnaturally when a student's prying fingers strain at it while said student's mouth proclaims, "My desk is loose! I need to move to another desk!"
Not so fast, Doom-Cryer! Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was not born yesterday. She cut her teeth on career cryers-of-doom much savvier than you. We'll just switch out that desk with one back here. No need to adjust my seating chart. But that tactic has grown tiresome. And my stable of bent-top nags is growing. So I saw a reason to take the bulls by the horns. Or the desks by the screws.
Oh, I could put in a work order. Or corner a custodian on my plan time to ask for a quick repair of one or two as they become infirm. But that is not always a productive proposition. I swore to be more proactive this year. If I want something done right, and in a timely manner, I'll do it myself. Last weekend, I scoured The Devil's Playground for my very own assortment of screwdrivers, and a nifty foldable hex key set.
When I took The Pony to pick up his schedule on Thursday, I told him to take a screw out of a sidelined desk so I could see what it looked like. Funny. I had one just like it in the pencil tray in my top desk drawer. So I took one home to ask Farmer H if he had any. "I don't know. Probably. That's a pan head screw." I have visions of a little plastic drawer full of them over in the BARn workshop. And I plan to end their languishing existence forthwith, and make honest screws of them. Put them to work.
Okay, so this proactive business involves a bit of outsourcing. I've contracted the job to the #1 son. I will pay him (per desk) to tighten and/or replace the four screws holding down the top of each desk, and to tighten the freaky hex screws holding the legs on at the proper height. It will be time-intensive, but not difficult.
I'm all about employing the youth of today.