DEAR MISS MANNERS: On a thank you note for a gift that I gave to my boyfriend's daughter, she wrote: "I would love for you to come to my new home for dinner. Schedule a date and let me know."

I do not feel comfortable scheduling a dinner where I am to be a guest. I consider her invitation to be in the category of insincere invitations like "please visit us some time."

To compound matters, my boyfriend thinks that I am spurning his daughter's invitation. I explained that if she invited me for dinner on a specific date, I would be happy to come. He seemed baffled by this, and when he shared my sentiments with his daughter, she indicated that it had to be done her way. Am I being unreasonable?

GENTLE READER: Unwise, for sure. Here the daughter of your beau is trying, however awkwardly, to be gracious, and you are accusing her of being rude by quibbling about the wording.

That's the sort of thing that gives etiquette a bad reputation.

Miss Manners acknowledges that invitations should be accompanied by specific dates, but there are exceptions when a sincere host may feel the need to yield to the convenience of prospective guests. For example, people who live out of town may be urged to suggest dates when it might be possible for them to visit.

From the daughter's wording, Miss Manners has the impression that she had the thought of deferring to you, as her elder (although why Miss Manners should make that leap is not clear) whose convenience should be sought.

If she had merely referred to "some time," Miss Manners would have agreed that you could hardly be expected to respond, "OK, how about Thursday?"

But that part about scheduling a date sounds serious. You can't decree a date unilaterally, but you could open negotiations by saying, "I'd love to come for dinner. I'm pretty much free after next week, although Fridays are always bad for me because I have my exercise class. When would be good for you?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Acquaintances seem to think it is appropriate to call and leave a message inviting me to a home merchandise party, one or two days in advance. They then ask me to call back with a yes or no, so they can prepare food accordingly.

I have never called back, assuming I am under no obligation, considering the manner in which I was invited. I have then received the catalog for the merchandise in my mail or doorstep, days later, asking me to order by a certain date, "payable to..."

Is it me, or have these merchandise/catalog party throwers become a little overbearing?

GENTLE READER: Not to mention confused. They seem to believe that you are bound to treat them with all the obligations due to friends while they target you with ploys that merchants aim at customers.

Miss Manners agrees that you are under no obligation, but asks you to consider whether you want to give them the full treatment you would give pesky salespeople, which is to ignore them. A compromise would be to reply to the invitation, not by expressing regret, as is decently required for social invitations, but by using the polite commercial response, which is, "Thank you, but I'm not interested."

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What are the chances that someone who wins an Academy Award will say bashfully, "Oh, it wasn't anything special, I was just doing my job"?

Or that a spokesperson for the industry will say, "After all, let's remember that it's just entertainment"?

Approximately zero, Miss Manners figures. No doubt we would all be disappointed if they did. Hollywood hype is a sort of folklore with us, and to put it into perspective would ruin it.

Yet, speaking of zero, didn't we just see counter-examples of accolades being accepted with modesty, and popular pastimes being acknowledged by the people involved as not of major importance?

Police and firefighters at Ground Zero murmured that what was being publicly lauded as heroism was simply what they had signed up to do, and then excused themselves to get back to work. Professional athletes who had been in the habit of prancing about in frenzies of self-congratulation were saying that it was, after all, just a game.

Miss Manners noted that award ceremonies were also muted, postponed or canceled in the fresh throes of mourning. The entertainment industry did some immense soul-searching at the time, asking itself if there might be a possibility of its being in bad taste to use mayhem and violence for amusement.

And then it decided -- Nyah.

As one of the few citizens who does not hold the entertainment industry responsible for morally uplifting the nation, Miss Manners would not worry about its artless self-aggrandizement if audiences would take it in the same spirit. What bothers her is that the nation studies the Academy Awards as a course in public etiquette.

This is not all bad. Academy Award winners always remember to thank and compliment others, although they don't always remember to stop. They often tout causes that help the unfortunate as well as their reputations for compassion. They dress for the occasion, sometimes both above and below the waist.

These habits have been picked up by the citizenry for their own rituals, and Miss Manners is afraid that they do not realize that they must be modulated in speeches given by normal people.

Graduates should certainly thank their parents and teachers, but not everyone they have ever known, as if even people who are not present would want history to record that they contributed to creating a genius. Bridal couples are excused for saying charming things about each other, but they should not insert into the ceremony their lists of personal qualities ("You let me have my space") with which they fell in love. Birthday celebrants are encouraged to put to good use any largesse that is conferred on them, but they should not consider it a virtue to coerce others into supporting their charities. And it is a good idea for everybody, no matter how original and fashionable, to remember to get dressed beforehand.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: When I made the remark that I was going to have supper on Sunday night, my daughter and daughter-in-law laughed at me. I said that I know years ago, it used to be breakfast, dinner and supper, but I thought supper still held true for Sunday, because now you have brunch. I would like to be able to tell them they're wrong.

GENTLE READER: You didn't need to wait for Miss Manners for that. The young are always wrong to laugh at their elders.

As Miss Manners recalls, chic mid-Victorians were inordinately proud of themselves for discovering that one could overeat at night, instead of at mid-day. They then retitled their meals breakfast, lunch and dinner, and began the custom your young ladies are following, of laughing at people who still had daytime dinner and a light supper at night, the way they used to do.

But they also recognized that there were proper times for light evening meals, such as oysters and champagne at midnight. If you eat lightly Sunday evening to recover from brunch, that is properly called supper.

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am not one of those parents who sees genius in her child's every action and utterance, and my husband and I have not been drilling our son with flashcards since birth; nor did we begin playing Mozart to him when he was in utero. But, we have an exceptionally intelligent second-grader whose teachers tell us that he is performing at least at fifth-grade level. He just turned out this way.

We are careful to avoid talking about his accomplishments and abilities in front of other parents for fear that we might sound boastful. However, he goes to a school that encourages parents to spend time in the classroom, so many of his classmates' parents have seen his work and are comparing it to their own children.

Other parents will ask what my husband and I have "done to him." How old was he when he learned to read? Does he use a computer at home? How much TV is he allowed to watch? Some even ask me for advice on making their children better readers or stronger in math, as if I would have any idea what to advise them!

They will ask what my son's scores were on tests and will not take, "Oh, I'm sure he did just fine," or "I don't remember" for an answer. One father told me that he had to know because he'd promised his daughter a dollar for every point she "beat" my son by on a math exam!

The mother of one of his first-grade classmates told me today that she had requested that her daughter not be placed in my son's class this year because "she deserves a chance to be the best for once."

When I am flabbergasted by their insensitive comments about my 6-year-old, I am afraid of sounding defensive or rude. It is even more awkward when they ask these questions while my son is standing right there.

Being vague doesn't seem to help -- these people want specifics. Even turning the conversation toward these parents' own children and how they like their teachers or what accomplished artists or athletes they're becoming doesn't seem to work. How can I answer politely and make it clear that I won't have my little boy discussed as if he were some sort of exotic specimen?

GENTLE READER: They won't even be deflected by your handing them opportunities to brag about their own children?

You do have some hard cases there. Miss Manners is afraid that the poor things really do believe that if only they can wrest your parenting secret from you, their children will be as bright as yours. No, they will beat yours, because these parents will apply twice the dosage you do.

All right, then, you'll have to tell them, although not in front of your son.

The secret (you should say in a conspiratorial whisper) is to fool your child into believing that his accomplishments are entirely his own, because he, not his parents, is responsible for developing his abilities. Once parents let on how much they have invested in his success (you should warn), it's all over. So you refuse to keep track of the very things they ask, and that is your contribution to your son's success.

You may be doing these people a service. Miss Manners is as aware as you that it will not change the children's innate intelligence. But, in the unlikely event that some parents try backing off, they may free their children to take responsibility for and pleasure in doing their own work.

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