"My Mom and I moved in with my Grandparents when I was 10 years old. You know, old enough to have learned how to do some basic chores, and certainly old enough to be taught more. Unfortunately my Grandmother, God bless her, was not only terrified of fire (her Mother had a problem with accidentally setting things on fire) but she was also a neat freak that insisted on doing everything herself so it was done right.

My Mom married my (step)Dad when I was 14 years old, and we moved in to a house together as a family. He was horrified to learn that, at nearly 15 years old, I did not know how to wash and dry my own clothes, iron, load a dishwasher, or even use the stove. I could use the oven because I baked with my other Grandmother when I visited, but I had never used the stove top. There are many more things he had to teach me, but those were the things that really had him worried about my ability to care for myself as an adult. It wasn't that my Grandmother didn't want me to be able to care for myself. Her fears were just so intense that she didn't think about how not knowing these basic skills would effect me later in life. I am forever grateful to my Dad for being the Dad I needed because God knows the biological one couldn't be bothered. Mom couldn't overrule her own Mother when we lived with her and by the time she married Dad she was sleeping at the hospital five nights a week because her schedule was so insane. I dont even want to think about who I would be if I hadn't had him to teach me, but I'm pretty sure I would have had to live off of chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and take out through my 20s if it weren't for him. I probably would've smelled pretty bad from the lack of clean clothes too."