Single dad gets nosy questions, but he’s not only one who does

Dear Miss Manners: I am a single father. I am not divorced; I am not co-parenting. It is just me and my son. Many people I meet cannot seem to grasp the concept, and I am constantly asked invasive questions. Many of them are about my former wife or girlfriend (no such person exists). I am sometimes asked about my son’s origins — traditional birth, adoption, surrogacy, etc. A surprising number of times, I am asked the highly specific question, “How often do you get him? Every other weekend?”

When people encounter a single mother, no one ever asks, “I see you have four children. How many different fathers?” or “Do the fathers pay child support or are they deadbeats?” It’s ludicrous.

Gentle reader: Don’t be so sure that single mothers are spared this intrusiveness. Or any parents, for that matter. Or just about anyone else, as we have a pandemic of rudely expressed nosiness.

So Miss Manners believes it is useful to have a response that means, but does not say, “None of your business.”

In this case, start with a firm “It’s just him and me,” which can be quietly repeated as necessary. And the answer to where you got him can be “The stork brought him,” or “From the cabbage patch,” or “Surely you know where babies come from.”

I had a dinner party for eight people. Six of them,

Dear Miss Manners:

including my spouse and me, later tested positive for COVID.

Prior to the party, we all tested negative, but obviously one or more of us was not symptomatic at the time. Five days after the party, the first person reported that he tested positive, and I contacted the rest of the guests and let them know. Over the next week, most have confirmed that they have the virus.

I feel certain that the party was the event that precipitated this, and feel terrible that my guests are ill because of it. What is the right thing to do now?

Gentle reader: Oh, dear. Not your fault, of course, but it was your party.

You have already done the right thing in notifying people immediately, and, Miss Manners trusts, telling them how terrible you feel. This is a rare occasion where the non-apology so often used illegitimately by guilty people — a variation of “I’m sorry you feel that way” — is legitimate. You do feel bad that they feel sick.

There are two more things for you to do — or, rather, one to do and one not to do:

You should check up on your guests occasionally to see how they are doing, and you should refrain from any speculation about who was the carrier. Everybody tested and everybody attended in good faith, so no good can come of targeting anyone.

Dear Miss Manners: My husband is very handy, and works for himself flipping houses and doing construction. Every time we get close to new people, they seem to expect him to fix their home needs: leaking plumbing, doors that stick, any home maintenance that they don’t know how to handle.

What is a polite way to say no? We feel especially uncomfortable when we know someone is not in a good place financially. He always ends up saying yes, resentfully, and now he doesn’t want to make any new friends at all because they all seem to want to use him as their personal handyman. He has no interest in doing their work in any manner — not for free or for money. He has enough on his plate!

Gentle reader: And that right there is the polite way to say no: “I am very sorry, but Scott is just so busy right now, he doesn’t have any extra time — even to help out a friend. I’m sure that you, as an overworked and exhausted (insert asker’s occupation) understand how precious any time away from work is.”

Miss Manners’ hope is that no matter the profession of your brazen new friend, they will easily be able to relate to the objection of providing free labor.

Dear Miss Manners: My wonderful daughter-inlaw takes off her shoes when she walks into our house. My floors aren’t pristine, and when we sit in the living room, she then puts her feet on the white wool upholstery. I didn’t say anything at first, when she was the girlfriend.

Now they are married. We have a great relationship and I should be thankful for that and not make my furniture take precedence. But is there anything I can say at this point?

Gentle reader: “We got you this pair of slippers.”