#missmanners

[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

Who says there is a “right” way of doing things and a “wrong”?

Gentle Reader:

Miss Manners does. You want to make something of it?

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[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

I am feeling incorrect. What am I supposed to do if my mother and father get a divorce? How are my brother and sister and I supposed to react? Do we have to pick a parent to live with? If we don’t get or pick the other parent, to we get to see that parent a certain day or many days a week? If one parent asks us to do one thing and another parent another thing, which one do we listen to and why? Why does my brother, age six, hate my father so much? Please give me the answers because I can’t figure them out for myself and I need the advice.

Gentle Reader:

There is no reason for you to feel incorrect, now or in any confusion that may arise from your situation. It is a common mistake for those who have been put in an awkward situation by other to take it upon themselves the responsibility for the awkwardness. Perhaps your brother’s hatred is a feeling of resentment against the disruption of family life. Justified or not, it is likely to pass.

The fact is that all three of you children still have two parents. Whichever one you live with most, you will still be the children of the other. It is unlikely that you will have a say about when you will live where (but if you are consulted, Miss Manners urges you to go against your natural inclination and pick the one who makes irksome rules for you, not the one who lets you do whatever you want).

Your duty is to treat both of them with respect, and to obey the house rules of the one whose house you are in at any given moment. Miss Manners is sorry to spoil the game of But Daddy Lets Me Do Homework with the Television On or But Mommy Lets Me Eat Whatever I Want, but that constitutes incorrect behavior.

[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

I am a cleaning lady, and I also clean my church. My problem is that when I go to someone’s home for a social occasion where I am invited as a guest, I’m expected to help serve and clean up.

I had one lady hand me a dish towel when I came in, and was told to wipe off glasses and fix drinks while she visited with her guests. I don’t mind helping, but I think if you are an invited guest, you shouldn’t be expected to serve. How can I tell them nicely that I would like to be treated like the others?

Gentle Reader:

It is true that Miss Manners is in the business of putting sticky statements nicely, but suddenly she doesn’t feel so nice.

What these people are doing is outrageous. This is not helping a friend,as a guest may volunteer- but not be conscripted- to do. This is using a social pretext to get your professional services free.

Miss Manners has three suggestions for you, all of them polite but firm statements to deliver in a pleasant manner. Frankly she is hoping you will chose the third.

“Oh, my goodness, I misunderstood; I didn’t realize you wanted to hire me for the evening. Let me tell you what I charge.”

“I’m afraid you had better ask one of the other guests to help. I do this for a living, as you know, and so when I accept an invitation to go out, it’s only to relax.”

“You know, I’ve been doing this sort of thing all week, and suddenly I find that I’m tired. You will excuse me, but I think I will go home now to rest. Here’s your dish towel. Have a pleasant evening.”

[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

Is it proper to invite one’s family and friends to the hospital, preoperation of course, in order to make one’s bequests?

Gentle Reader:

The deathbed family gathering is a social event of such drama and excitement that Miss Manners cannot understand why it is so seldom staged in modern times. Perhaps potential hosts don’t feel up to it, or perhaps they think of it too late. Miss Manners commends your effort to keep such a vital custom alive.

Here are some guidelines:

Be sure to invite friends and relatives who are incompatible, if not sworn enemies. This is no time to consider who will be comfortable with whom. The thought of life’s fragility, as demonstrated by you, should keep them from killing one another, and it should give you a sense of peace to watch them all try to control their jealousy and greed.

It is not necessary, in fact it is unseemly, for you to provide any refreshment for your guests. You are feeding them hope, which is what people live on.

Keep your bequests vague. “I want to give you my most ancient and treasured possession” is better than “I’m leaving you my baseball card collection.” You don’t want your actual death to be an anticlimax.

Omit none of your guests from your speech. It is an ordinary social convention that no person should be left out, and it continues to apply in the deathbed scene. It is, after all, unforgivable to ask someone to make a special trip in order to be snubbed. In the spirit of vagueness described in (3), you may say, instead, “You, Cousin Atherton, may be assured that I have remembered everything you have done for me since we were children.”

It is not necessary, after this type of social event, for the host to make a quick exit. You may be happy to hear that it is perfectly correct to recover from the operation and, when you have regained your strength, to have a relapse and stage the entire event again, provided you vary the details to keep everyone alert.

[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

I suffer from several chronic illnesses. Neither illness is curable, but I have hope for the future.

I am is pain every day, and am quite fatigued. I have been made to quit so many of my hobbies and interests, as well as my job and volunteer work. My weeks are filled with visits to various physicians; I must take quite a lot of medications, and I require a lot of rest. Many days, I do not feel up to going out, but when I do, I take great care in my grooming and dress, so that I do not look hazard and sick, I am happy to stay close to home, but inevitably, some errand or social obligation will require me to go out.

How do I respond to people’s demands to know what is wrong with me? I do not like to discuss my illness, so I tend to say as little as possible. Also, how do I respond to the shocking and awful thing people say to me?

Some people demand to know what “they” are doing for me, why aren’t I cured by, now, and infer that my physicians are a bunch of charlatans. I have been accused of being a hypochondriac, needing a facial or a vacation, and told that if I would just have a baby or get a job, that I wouldn’t have time to be sick. I have been told that my illness does not exist, and that I need mental health counselling. These outbursts are made by family members, “friends”, and acquaintances of my husband.

When I am tired and in pain, these comments seem especially cruel. It would be easy to be snappish, or to remind these folks to mind their own business, but it is more painful to me to think that I have offended someone by my reply. How can I respond without alienating these folks?

Gentle Reader:

Like you, Miss Manners would very much not like to hear from people who believe the universal treatment is to talk about one’s illnesses to whoever is brash enough to ask, and that the only reason for refusing to do so is a false shame that stands in the way of recovery. Furthermore, she thinks that people who practice medicine without licences at least ought to observe the courtesy of not undermining the treatment of their legitimate colleagues.

As you say, it would be easy to be snappish back- but rude. It will be easier to be polite if you make it a practice to focus on their motivation- generously presuming it to be concern for you rather than nosiness- and to steadfastly ignore the rest.

Keep repeating “I appreciate your concern,” to whatever they say. Any attempt to explain your disease or defend your treatment admits them to a discussion of your case for which they are not eligible, socially or professionally.

[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

What is your response to a lewd remark?

Gentle Reader:

People do not make lewd remarks to Miss Manners. If they did, her response would be a sweet smile, accompanied by a naive but earnest request to explain exactly what the remark meant. The result would be that even if a person made a first lewd remark to Miss Manners, he would never make a second.

[miss--manners]

Dear Miss Manners:

My niece, married several years with two children (one newborn), discovered that her husband is a serial cheater. He travels on business weekly and routinely uses the Internet to set up liaisons in destination cities. She’s heartbroken, confused, and unsure of her next move.

How do I handle the next meeting with the scoundrel, which is likely to be a family gathering in my sister’s home? I know I can’t kill or even seriously wound him, but neither can I be the hail-fellow-well-met uncle of the past. Should I greet him with a flat “Hello,” and move away, leaving no doubt that I want no further conversation? Must I shake hands, which I would rather not? I don’t want to embarrass my sister or my niece, but I can’t pretend I’m glad to see the husband or even want to be in the same room with him even though we formerly were very friendly and have shared many happy times.

Gentle Reader:

Shunning scoundrels is one of society’s duties, sadly neglected by those who refuse to pass judgment, and who may also have discovered that scoundrels sometimes make lively companions. Miss Manners is glad to see that you are ready to do your part.

As you have noticed, it is a complicated part. However much you may want to protect society in general from cads, it is your niece in particular whose betrayal arouses you indignation. And she- understandably with a newborn baby- has not yet decided what she will do. She may reconcile with him, in which case cutting him off will cut you off from her. Even if she divorces him, she is likely to maintain some sort of relationship in regard to their children, and this may occasion your meeting him in your house or your sister’s. You are therefore not free to administer the worst snub, which is to refuse to shake his hand, hold any conversation with him, indeed, to recognize that he exists.

The setting you want, until you see what happens, is not freezing, but cool. The flat hello and turning away is fine, and if you turn away fast enough, you may be able to avoid shaking hands. In case of divorce, you can lower this to cold, which precludes anything but a curt nod, yet if there is a reconciliation, you can turn it up to lukewarm, adding short neutral conversation.