My dad had his mother's iron, it was the kind you had to heat on the stove so that was the one I got to use when I played. My mother guarded her home tools much like I guard my scissors. She didn't like help in the kitchen and when she started ironing she just wanted to get through it as quickly as possible. So I had to learn by watching. She was very patient teaching me to sew and embroider but the rest, not so much. Maybe because there were three of us. I don't remember my older sisters being interested in either sewing or cooking. We also had an incident where the iron was left turned off but plugged in and it melted. The face plate melted down it was incredible the ironing board didn't catch fire because it was a wooden one. We kept the iron for years it was so bizarre and a reminder to ALWAYS unplug the iron.