Friends should simply decline invitations to kids’ parties

Dear Carolyn: We have two close friends who have two small children. We have attended their baby showers and have gone to their children’s birthday parties once.

We continue to be invited to their kids’ parties, but I have to be honest, I despise going.

We don’t know most of the people who attend, so we end up talking to no one except our friends, briefly.

I find it odd that adults are invited to children’s birthday parties. I don’t recall ever having non-family adults at my parties growing up, and if we had kids I guess maybe it would make more sense to me.

My husband thinks we should still go because they are our friends, but, is it OK to continue to decline the invites until they stop? Am I a jerk friend?

You are not a jerk friend if you say no to a party you don’t want to attend.

You are at risk of ... taking on jerk-friend qualities, let’s say, if you concoct a bunch of ways to shift blame onto the hosts for somehow making you not want to attend their party. Or blaming society for foisting an invitation to a child’s birthday party on an adult — something that your parents’ generation was too sensible to do.

Own your decision. You don’t enjoy these. “We send our regrets, but thanks for the invitation. Wish the peanut a happy birthday from us.”

Dear Carolyn: Do you have any tips for how to wind up a conversation? I struggle, and tend to restate what was already said or say concluding-sounding things repeatedly. I think it is because I feel a bit socially awkward. But, I can tell my conversation companion is trying to figure out how to put an end to it, too.

So, how do I stop doing it? I am tired of the awkwardness it creates.

It’s not odd at all. Endings can feel rude or even unkind, in an “OK, I’m done with you now” kind of way.

But the awkwardness of your current exit dance is to your advantage here: You can see the solution not as introducing awkwardness to a conversation, but instead as replacing the old awkwardness with a different one. An abrupt “Oops, I’ve got to run” may feel exactly as weird as circling each other with restatements and re-conclusions, but at least it’s a weird that sets you free.

Once you embrace this, you can polish up your exits by having some not-untrue, notimpolite segues always at the ready.

Out to drinks or dinner, or over to someone’s house: “I’m tapping out, I’ve got an early day”; or, “Time’s up for me.”

In a work transaction: “OK then, is there anything else?”

After a chance encounter: “I’ve got to run.”

At a party: “Excuse me, I need a refill”; or ask for help: “Where’s the restroom?” If they don’t know, excuse yourself to look.