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If you've ever been faced with a blank stare when you admonish one of your offspring to "Just grow up," Kim Zarzour and Sharon McKay may have some help for you.

In their new book Good To Go: A Practical Guide to Adulthood, they set out to cover everything today's beleaguered parent is too tired to teach, from the embarrassingly everyday (setting a table), to lessons many a bona fide adult could use (debt management). With five kids between them, ranging in ages from 12 to 25, Ms. Zarzour, a parenting journalist and author who lives in Aurora, Ont., and Ms. McKay, a non-fiction author based in Kilbride, Ont., admit they missed the boat on a number of fronts. They hope to spare a few families their anguish.

We talked to them about the incompetence of their kids' generation, parents' complicity in the breakdown and whether there's still hope.

When did you decide that the world needed a primer on how to be an adult?

Sharon McKay: When I decided they were all idiots. There's always one moment. One of my kid's friend's stepdad died. They all went to the funeral to support their friend. I drove them. The girls all come out in little black cocktail dresses. You're supposed to wear black, but not with cleavage

I'm barely managing to hold on, and I realize two of them have hostess gifts. To cheer their friend up. They have such little awareness. It was actually sweet in a creepy way. Their mothers should have told them not to do this, but mothers can't do everything.

Kim Zarzour: We're always taking them to some hockey tournament or something or other and we think they're so tired, so we don't bother asking them to cut the lawn. Or they're too busy with their enrichment activities, we don't teach them how to heat up dinner.

It's a pretty fat book - are our kids really missing that many basic skills?

SM: We taught them how to eat with chopsticks but, I swear to God, didn't teach them how to set a table. You can try this. Hand a kid a fork, a knife and two spoons and say, "Set this." I will bet the lunch they don't get it right.

But you don't actually blame it on the kids.

SM: We thought that stuff was too good for them. We thought this was the generation of the perfect kid. We were going to create these renaissance children who were going to play the piano, go to ballet, hockey. So when in their lives is there time to teach them how to sort laundry?

KZ: It is taking longer to grow up. It's harder for them. The economy's different now. You have to have post-secondary education. You can't just leave school and get a job. But part of it is our fault for being indulgent, helicopter parents.

But so many of the things in the book seem obvious. Filling a dishwasher. Laundry.

SM: I started one of my sons with chicken nuggets in the oven. How hard is that? I said, "Read the instructions," and he called out, "What's a cookie sheet?" Holy cow, I've got a lot of work to do. That's the stuff we had the most trouble with, because it's too obvious. We didn't test the ice-cube theory - that they don't know how to make ice cubes. That was too scary.

KZ: I told [my son] Sam the other day he was going to learn laundry. I told him to start with the soap, the stuff in the white container on the washing machine. He didn't realize bleach was also there. He poured bleach in his laundry. He didn't know what bleach is, and he's 17.

Are boys particularly ill-equipped?

SM: Depending on what kind of home you come from, boys are still precious. My son, who was over 18 at the time, was in B.C. He was living on chicken wings and beer. He had scurvy. He got seriously sick. It scares the hell out of you. Now, of course, he's Mr. Health Fanatic and he has a baby and everything has to be perfect.

Is there any hope for parents that they may see their kids become competent human beings?

SM: Buy the book and cancel your phone number. Just hide.

KZ: Or buy a condo with one bedroom. That's my plan. And go there and hide.

There's the smelly poop category, which is a funny way into some serious health issues.

SM: If they don't know how to do the basics in the world, they don't know how to handle their own bodies. That's where you get things like a roommate gets meningitis and they don't know the triggers. Or alcohol poisoning: When do you let them sleep it off and when is something wrong? I've heard kids say, "You can't call an ambulance because you have to pay and we don't have any money." That's stuff that's dangerous.

KZ: They are worldly. They know everything about technology, but they don't know the basics we think they know. They have this lopsided knowledge of life skills.

Should parents be sly about giving their teens this book? When should they do it?

KZ: I've been giving it to a lot of my son's friends as they graduate Grade 12. As they head out. That and, "Good luck, kid." They should probably know this stuff before they leave.

SM: But they're not going to. And you know what? We're not going to teach them. We're fed up and bored.

KZ: I'm trying really hard with my 12-year-old. It's not too late to teach him how to turn on the oven and remember to turn it off.

SM: Forget that. When will that happen?

But do they pick up some of this stuff as they age?

SM: No. I was in a grocery store on Dec. 23. I saw a young woman, about 25, with a huge frozen turkey in her cart. I had to go and tell her if she was planning on cooking it for Christmas, she should go buy a fresh turkey because the frozen one would take five days to defrost. These are basics, right?

So, do you see a future in which we won't have to outsource these lessons?

SM: I don't see it in the generation coming up. They're as nuts as we were. You're still seeing precious babies.

PEST CONTROL

Get rid of ants by filling an old spray bottle with equal parts white vinegar and water. Spray around door jambs and windowsills.

SAFE SEX

Going for an encore? Don't try to reuse your old condom. Crack open a new one.

SELF-MEDICATING

Never use someone else's prescription.

HOUSEWORK

Separate your laundry into four piles: colours, darks, lights and delicates. Wash each pile separately.

CULINARY ARTS

Don't cook drunk. Really. Fires start that way. Big fires.