DEAR MISS MANNERS: My sisters and I will be hosting a party for my dad's 75th birthday. This happy event will soon be followed by another, when one of my sisters gives birth to her first child. She is thrilled, we are thrilled, my parents are thrilled ... and her boyfriend is thrilled.

Unfortunately, when this thrilled family meets up with its various extensions -- aunts, uncles, cousins -- at my dad's party, there are going to be a lot of pointed questions and comments about the order in which my sister has engaged in some of life's big events: getting pregnant, buying a house and eventually getting married.

Since our guests are the same people who spent several years trying to corner all of us on why we hadn't yet made my mother a grandmother, I think my apprehensions are well-founded. I don't want to be rude to the very people we have invited to celebrate with us, but I am afraid my sister is going to go ballistic and I dread spending the day with a fixed smile on my face trying to head things off at the pass. Please, can you tell me how we can best avert disaster? Or should we just assume that the worst will happen and live with it?

GENTLE READER: Why don't you use the same technique with which you discouraged these people from asking why you hadn't yet made your mother a grandmother?

Oh -- it didn't work?

Miss Manners supposes that this is because many consider it their duty to dispense futile advice to the younger members of their families. If your sister really wants to make that point -- instead of going ballistic and thus proving their contention that she doesn't know how to handle herself -- she will say, "You're right; I think I'll postpone having this baby."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A friend and I are not the adventurous types when it comes to restaurants, and therefore find ourselves frequenting the same couple of places week after week after week. Eventually the staff gets to know us, and occasionally the manager or owner will offer a drink or dessert on the house.

These gestures are appreciated, but there is one problem. If it's dessert that is offered, we graciously accept and justify our increased caloric intake that evening by convincing ourselves it would be rude not to eat it. But neither my friend nor I drink alcohol as we're both recovering alcoholics, and sacrificing our sobriety in the name of polite behavior is above and beyond the call of duty, so even daintily sipping on the beverage is not an option.

How does one decline the kind offer of a drink on the house without looking ungrateful and rude, while simultaneously conveying to the person who bought it for us that we are flattered by his or her thoughtfulness? Is there a diplomatic way to say "Thanks but no thanks"?

GENTLE READER: Yes: "That is extremely kind, and please convey our thanks, but I'm afraid we don't drink."

Miss Manners could also tell you how to decline those desserts politely, but she suspects you are just as happy not to know. (Oh, here it is, just in case the staff gives you second desserts to replace the drinks: "It looks wonderful, but we're still savoring your excellent food, and better leave it at that.")

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DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband is a very popular local public figure. We are often invited to spend the evening with people whom we do not like and with whom we do not want to spend time, but whom we don't want to offend.

These are people we know slightly, but have never invited to our house and never will, and they often live more than an hour's drive away. They call and mention several suggested dates up to two months in the future and we say we are "already busy" for all of those dates, explaining that my husband must go out for business reasons almost every night (hint! hint!).

They then say, "So when are you available during the next year? You name the date."

How do we decline these invitations without offending them? Or, if there's no way other than to offend them, what's the least offensive way?

My husband wants to "get sick" at the last minute, but the one time we did that they cancelled the entire dinner and immediately made the same offer for the next calendar year. We can't say, "We don't go out in the evening," because they know we do. What we want to do is stay home alone together in our jammies and slippers with a takeout pizza without having to smile and remember names and make small talk. Help!

GENTLE READER: George Washington's solution to this problem was to declare that being president made him so much in demand socially that he was granting himself and his successors an exemption from the general obligation of paying visits.

No one else is likely to get away with admitting to being so popular, and, as Miss Manners recalls, there was quite a bit of grumbling at the time about just who President Washington thought he was. Canceling after accepting and skittering around about finding dates are only going to raise this question about your husband.

But if it is unseemly to confess that you cannot satisfy the social hopes of all your admirers, it can be endearing to confess that you share most people's difficulty in performing all your more personal social duties. Your answer to when you will be available should be "You're so kind to invite us, and we wish we could name a date, but it will have to be after we figure out how to manage seeing relatives and friends whom we feel we've neglected."

DEAR MISS MANNERS: After my mother passed away, my father remarried when I was 18 and in college. My relationship with his wife has always been fine, but I never considered her my mother in any way, and have always let Mother's Day pass unacknowledged.

However, I recently learned that my two older siblings have acknowledged the occasion with cards (we all live out of state). I know you won't tell me to send a store-bought card, but should I be writing a personal note or making a special call? Should what my brother and sister are doing affect my judgment on this? I don't want it to appear as if I'm some kind of holdout or have animosity, but the fact is, she's not my mother.

GENTLE READER: No, but since she is your father's wife and you are on cordial terms, you should occasionally express your affectionate regard.

The occasion need not be Mother's Day. Her birthday, their wedding anniversary and holidays are such times, and doing so on no particular occasion is especially charming.

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At the behest of a French gastronomic consortium, the Vatican was rumored to be considering removing gluttony from the list of the Seven (formerly Deadly, now Venial) Sins.

That's the good news, said a gentleman of Miss Manners' acquaintance. "The bad news," he said, "is that cheese is going on."

Quite apart from the context of Church doctrine, strange things have long been happening to the entire list for some time, Miss Manners has noticed. The popular moral tab rates all seven on a scale from respectable to admirable.

Avarice is the national sport, with its competition for how much money people can make and how many things they can buy, and Envy keeps score and urges people on.

Sloth had a triumph when technology enabled workers to play games and exchange gossip while appearing to be hard at work on their computers.

Pride scored an even bigger victory when it was put on the school curriculum, self-esteem having come to be identified as a prerequisite for achievement rather than a result of it.

Wrath defeated civility itself, so that concern for humanity could be invoked as an excuse for treating people badly.

And as for lust ...

In comparison, overeating seems harmless enough. It is possible to chomp away quietly, without taunting or cheating others, presuming one does not empty the platter before it has been passed all the way around the table.

The etiquette danger, at any rate, is more likely to come nowadays from those who pay careful attention to what they eat and also to what everybody else eats. (See Wrath, above.)

If Gluttony is excessive attention to food and drink, negative attention should qualify, too. In a society where everyone is either overweight or a picky eater, maintaining gluttony as a sin would require locking everyone up in their own dining rooms.

Those dining rooms are empty enough for the purpose, because they have become the last places that any such sins would be committed. Eat in the dining room? Isn't that what we have sidewalks, kitchens, offices, bedrooms, stores, media rooms, classes, movies and cars for?

Without presuming that we can abolish sin, either by refraining from practicing it or by declaring it a virtue, Miss Manners thinks we would be better off to return to the dining room for regular meals.

For one thing, gluttons and everyone else might learn how to eat properly, which is to say without revolting others. Nightly parental instruction helps, but the most effective method consists of the vivid impressions that siblings perform of one another's eating methods. The family dinner table is also where the art of conversation is learned, beginning with the pretense that you are just as interested in hearing what other people have been doing and thinking as you are in talking.

As a bonus, it is possible that if people get used to eating at given times in the company of others, they will become less anxiously focused on food.

They might even learn to enjoy it more. As Miss Manners recalls about another of the sins, nobody disapproved of its providing pleasure as long as it was done properly at home, and not in the streets.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am a college student, about to graduate and get out in the workforce. I have heard and seen that most people choose to dress conservatively at an interview. How conservative should I go? Am I allowed to wear a pantsuit or is the skirt suit the only choice for me?

I don't like conservatism in general and I like to be able to show a touch of my personality and style in the way I dress.

What would you mostly recommend for college females ready to get out into the real world? Is this the time when dressing conservatively is the ultimate best choice?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners hopes it doesn't disappoint you to hear that pantsuits are no longer considered cutting edge. Female senators wear them to work.

The rule about interviews is to dress for the job you want. Perhaps there are fields in which college students are sought for their personalities and style, in which case you would do well to exhibit yours. For prospective employers who hire people for their skills or industry, however, this might be a sign that you are more interested in displaying yourself than in fitting in.

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