The thing he's worst about is his clothes. He leaves them in piles, he leaves crunchy socks in the living room, draped over the couch & chairs, can't seem to hit the hampers (after 20 years I've given up on a "dark" hamper and a "light" hamper. He never got the difference and I was tired of sorting clothes anyway.)
I realized the reason why. When I met him, he was living with his parents and paying them rent. I was sitting in his room once (I was waiting for him for some reason) and his mother came into the room and starting putting his clothes away! He was a grown
man. I was flabbergasted, as I had been doing my own laundry since I was 10 or so. I asked his mother in a joking way why, and she said, "He can't do it right and he messes up my system. So it's easier to just do his laundry." OMG.
I am sure she wasn't too happy about this teenage girl questioning her "system."
When he got his apartment and I remember a couple of "pink loads" of wash, because he didn't know to separate clothes by color. Also, when we got our own house, I actually physically stopped him from just pouring bleach over a full load of mixed clothes! I screamed and grabbed his hand. He said, "That's what my mom did." I know for a fact his mother never poured bleach over a full load of mixed color clothes. Sheesh.
So, I do the laundry.
He can cook, but he wants to serve food IN the pans he cooks it in. It was bred to NEVER put a pot on the table. That's why we invented serving dishes. (His family also uses their eating forks
to grab food out of the pot on the table. BLEH, just BLEH. I always used serving silver.) We have had decades together and he still wants to put pots on the table, even on Christmas! And his mother still grabs food out of the serving dishes with her fork....that was...in her.....mouth.......