Are guests not supposed to use the toilet in powder rooms now?

Dear Miss Manners: I attended a party where I suddenly needed to use the toilet, hurriedly retreating to a nearby powder room. After I exited, the hostess gave me a withering look and barely spoke to me for the rest of the evening, apparently unhappy that I had violated her very elegant room.

I realize that I should have asked her permission first, but time was of the essence. Besides, I did not wish to get specific about my needs. At what point is it assumed that powder rooms are not lavatories and that the toilet in them is strictly ornamental? Are they limited to use only by ladies who wish to powder their noses and refresh their makeup? Being a gentleman, I have no such needs.

Gentle reader: The nutty notion that guest towels are strictly ornamental has been around for some time now. They’re called guest towels, aren’t they? Why is it so hard to figure out what they are for? The taboo is so prevalent as to cause hosts who notice that their bathrooms are pristine after guests’ usage to wonder whether it was a mistake to shake hands when the guests left.

Yet the notion that the entire bathroom is a work of art not to be touched is beyond nutty. Can you not picture what would be in store later for a hostess who forbade her guests to use the bathroom?

Please reexamine your memory of this party. Was the hostess really annoyed at you? If so, could it have been something else you may have said or done? Or something entirely unrelated to you?

Miss Manners suggests that your letter of thanks add that you hope that you were not the cause of any distress. She doubts that the response will be, “Well, you went to the bathroom! Couldn’t you have waited until you got home?”

Dear Miss Manners: I am the proud grandmother of five grandchildren. Four of them range in age from 10 to 20. The fifth one passed away at 5 weeks old. She was born with a rare, complex, congenital heart abnormality. She fought really hard and endured 12 open-heart surgeries in her short life. She would now be 13 if she had lived.

People often ask me how many grandchildren I have. I usually say five, and that often segues into being asked for their ages. I feel awkward giving the ages for four grandchildren, then explaining that one passed away. I don’t always really want to discuss it with people I don’t know, and I also don’t want to seem like I’m asking for sympathy.

At the same time, it doesn’t feel right not to acknowledge that I have another granddaughter.

She deserves to be recognized as one of my grandchildren, even if it’s just in a passing conversation.

What would be the best way for me to address this to inquirers in a way that doesn’t ignore my granddaughter, but respectfully nips the conversation?

Gentle reader: There is no disrespect in failing to mention a significant tragedy in a casual conversation. If anything, Miss Manners would have said the reverse: that the loss of your granddaughter at such a young age is too personal to share with a stranger.

The ages of your grandchildren “range from 10 to 20,” which is likely as much detail as is of interest to the inquirer.

Dear Miss Manners: I love using online chats for business questions. It’s quicker than email and better than sitting on hold forever, plus I have a transcript of what was said.

However, ending the chat is confusing. They are taught to write things like, “Anything else I could help you with?” or “Have a good day.” The former requires a response, and the second might. Do you end the chat, or let them? If you end it, what is a polite but unequivocal way of saying, “I’m signing off now”?

Gentle reader: The lack of a comfortable rhythm for ending chat sessions has been noticed by Miss Manners as well, but the basic rules have not changed. As you are the customer, it is up to you to confirm that the reason for your call has been addressed. “No, thank you. Goodbye” is an adequate response to the first option, and “Thank you, goodbye” to the second. You will, however, have to have the courage of your convictions by then signing off.

Dear Miss Manners: My first name is Eddie. I have a friend who constantly calls me Eddie Spaghetti. It bothers me to no end. I am not a wet noodle. Without offending him, how do I get him to knock it off?

Gentle reader: Smile wanly and assure him you have never heard that one before.