It was a guy, but I can't remember who it was

Top 100!

I remember having to show a dorm-mate how to fold a contour sheet the first week of school freshman year. Her mom had shown her how to do the actual laundry (complete with written instructions), but she was clueless when it came to folding.

Yeah, I don't know how to do that. I try, but I FAIL. Epic FAIL on the fitted sheet for Nora.

I don't know where I picked up the term "contour sheet"--it might have been at home, because "fitted sheet" doesn't seem to come naturally to me.

Then again, it might have been from commercials. I think we probably called it "the bottom sheet" when I was a kid, so I might have started saying "contour sheet" to be more grown-up because that's what they called them on tv.

Yeah, I don't know how to do that. I try, but I FAIL. Epic FAIL on the fitted sheet for Nora.

I solve this problem by laundering and putting the sheets directly on the bed.

Contour sheet folding is pretty fun, actually--stick your hand in one corner, match it up with the opposite corner, and then shake it out so everything lines up. Then do the same on the other two corners and fold the two doubled-up corners together.

It is easier to do it with a twin dorm bed sheet than a queen-sized one, though.

Speaking of laundry, I remember my dad telling me that when he was in college, everyone mailed their laundry home and they had special boxes for it.

My Grandmother told me the same thing about her Brothers. To a certain extent, its because housekeeping and laundry were very different back in the day... you didn't have permanant press and colorfast fabrics or synthetics. Outer clothes were easy to screw up, relatively more pricey, and washed far less often. Washing machines didn't exist or were far more primitive and irons were much less user-friendly. Before modern detergents they were using things like lye.

Its like in whichever Anne of Green Gables book where Anne and Diana (I think) go off to college and find someone to keep house for them. It was a full time job.

DH#2 had no housekeeping skills possibly from having a nanny and other household help growing up. His acceptable level of squalor was much higher than mine so he insisted on having a cleaning person after I moved in because he thought it was crazy for me to pick up after him. That was a good plan.

All 5 of the kids in his family went to excellent schools and universities. His parents only had cleaning help by the time I met them because they were retired. They only ate breakfast at home. They did think it was delightful that I loved to cook and would eat home cooked meals when I provided them.

I can fold fitted sheets beautifully, but no one cares in my house except me so I don't bother anymore.

I learned household stuff at an early age. Cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry—I was pretty self-sufficient before I went to college. Part of this was because I was a loser with very few friends, so anything that gave me an excuse to stick around the house and not go out where the kids were being their horrid selves was a win.

My sister didn't learn any of this until after college, when she was married. She learned it all the hard way or through panicked calls to Mom. I listened to Mom's half of the, "How to make chili" conversation and laughed and laughed.

by the age of seven, most kids will protest violently at the idea of having their mother dress them.

HA! not mac. He would happily let me dress him every morning. There is a reason I have made the rule that there is no tv on in the morning until all clothes and shoes are on.

I should say also that there is a significant amount of regression with mac, most things revolving around direct care especially if there is physical contact involved - it is all bonding stuff.

Burrell, it's that I want him to do the things without asking 4-5 times that the guy at work was chiding. He was all, "you can't expect him to just do things on his own."

Being latchkey kids, my sister and I learned cooking pretty young as well. Our one big screw up was the time we were too lazy to reheat the veggies in a pot, so we just put the glass dish on the gas burner (pre-microwave era). When it went "boom!" we learned not to do that again. We were lucky it broke into large pieces and not little flying pieces of shrapnel.