What to say when asked why you don’t have drink
Dear Miss Manners: I grew up with an alcoholic father and have a very clear picture of the downsides of alcohol. I drink only occasionally, and I tend to come up with excuses at social events where I don’t drink: I’m the designated driver, I have an early start in the morning, I’m watching my calories, etc.
Is there a polite way to tell well-meaning but intrusive friends that comments about my drinking behaviors are not welcome? Gentle Reader: The freedom with which casual acquaintances — and even strangers — press the most personal questions is a constant source of astonishment to Miss Manners.
Possibly these people are encouraged that you are not in possession of a drink to throw in their faces. So you could arm yourself early in the event with an ambiguous glass of orange juice or sparkling water with a slice of lime.
You do not actually need an excuse; you could keep repeating, “Thank you, I don’t care for a drink” until the nosy become bored with probing. Or you could keep repeating the answers you have been giving. Remarkably, people who do not respect personal privacy are unlikely to question a desire to lose weight, the needs of the job or driver safety. Dear Miss Manners: I have a 7-year-old daughter who is very interested in learning how to become a lady. We practice formal dining situations, and she has been asking some questions that I do not know how to answer, as I was raised a bumpkin myself:
If someone wants more dessert, may they ask for seconds?
What do you call a lady-child or a child-gentleman?
If Mommy is the hostess, can the child help her bring things to the table, or does she have to sit like a statue?
And her cutest question: If a child makes everyone at the dinner table laugh and spit out their food, what are we supposed to do next?
Gentle Reader: Presuming that you refrain from spitting out your food, you seem to have outgrown bumpkinhood. Miss Manners doubts that you would otherwise have reared a daughter with an awareness of — and even interest in — etiquette. She offers her congratulations on that.
It might be even more interesting (and instructive) for your daughter to dramatize the situations that piqued her curiosity.
What if she were the hostess, and her guests asked for seconds, but there wasn’t any more, or at least not enough to go around? Yet if she did have more dessert to offer, she would be likely to produce it when guests merely said how delicious it was. So no, don’t ask outright, because you might embarrass the hostess by implying that she didn’t make enough.
Miss Manners is afraid to ask what a lady-child or a child-gentleman is exactly, but imagines someone of, say, 7 would be flattered to be addressed as “Miss Emily” or “Miss Jones” (or “Master,” for a boy).
Third, if she were a guest, what would she think of a young person who sat like a statue, letting her mother do all the work? Not only should the child offer to help, it is her duty.
And finally, if you know that they have just taken a big bite of food, maybe it is not the moment to tell them your best joke. But if food is expelled with the laugh, the deputy hostess would offer to help clean up, skipping over the possibility of embarrassment.