Dumb, dumbstruck, dumbfounded: Miss Manners is wearying of the cycle.

A dumb remark is made. The person to whom it is said is dumbstruck. Miss Manners is dumbfounded at how often this keeps happening.

She isn't even counting remarks that are made with vicious intent, or questions that are asked to pry into other people's business. Those have their own, worse categories of rudeness.

Genuinely dumb remarks are those that sound insulting, even though no ill will went into them, or sound nosy, even though no real curiosity prompted them. They are uttered just because the speaker felt inclined to say something, and never thought to analyze how it might strike the target.

The most popular dumb remark now seems to be "You look tired," beating out the "Smile!" command, which had a long run.

This replacement is at least more likely to produce results. Telling someone he or she looks tired has the effect of making the person look even more tired, the original state being compounded by the wearying knowledge that one's dragginess is so obvious. But then, instructions to cheer up generally produced the same effect.

The appearance of other people, almost always a dangerous subject for commentary (the exception being when someone you love gets dressed up and it becomes dangerous not to comment), is a major inspiration for dumb remarks. To point out to others that they are short, tall, fat, thin, pregnant, using a wheelchair, looking anxious or blushing is not as informative as many people imagine, and to inquire why is not likely to enlighten or amuse even the one who asks.

When it comes to unsolicited suggestions for improving the appearance and such, the merely thoughtless are often confused with proselytizers, who are as purposeful as they are rude. But instead of recommending therapists and handing out exercise plans, the former just deliver offhand remarks, such as "You could stand a haircut," "That's a terrible neighborhood you live in," "You should get married," "Are you still in that same job?" or a simple "Yuck!" at the sight of what someone else is eating.

Birth, marriage, divorce and death seem to move practically everyone to astonishing dumbness. Nobody much cares if prospective parents want a boy or a girl, but people keep asking them. This is about as useful as asking engaged couples if they know what they are doing, and about as suitable to casual conversation as asking divorcing couples what went wrong. When there is a death, people don't ask the bereaved if they are pleased; they tell them they should be: "It's better this way."

Commenting on children who are present, guessing and asking about people's ancestral origins, and assessing people's possessions are other rich sources of dumb remarks. Miss Manners is regularly besieged by the victims, who beg or suggest a response in case it happens again. Something witty and withering, they specify. A putdown.

But while Miss Manners has nothing against wit, she refuses to resort to using rudeness against the rude, and certainly not against those who parrot thoughtless remarks without intention to hurt.

Fortunately, she has also found that the most effective reaction to dumb remarks is dumbfoundedness. Looking at them wide-eyed and saying nothing has the simple charm of leaving the dumb remark echoing in the air for everyone to hear how dumb it was. Sometimes even the person who said it.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Several members of my working group at the office have adopted the custom of bringing back small remembrances for the other members of the group when they go on vacation. How long should I display these items in my office? I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, but mine is a small cubicle, and it's getting rather cluttered.

Next, do I need to reciprocate? Unlike my colleagues, who are mostly unmarried, without children, and take exotic trips, I am a young mother, and most of my vacation time is spent doing exciting things like going to see my in-laws. Darling little souvenirs of these trips (postcards of the nearby flood-control channel, perhaps?) are in rather short supply.

GENTLE READER: Bring them your mother-in-law's cookies or, if she doesn't bake, ones that you bought for the children before they got carsick. Miss Manners assures you that your colleagues will be just as happy not to have yet another decoration for their cubicles, even though these can be gracefully jettisoned with the words "How darling -- I'm going to take this home."

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: There was unpleasantness at our table last night.

For 11 years, I have cooked dinner for my husband, and for the past eight years, I have cooked a separate dinner for our (now) four children. The children dine at 5:30, then, when my husband comes home from his very demanding job, we eat a separate and much nicer meal, with wine, together.

Over the years it has chafed that my husband never says "thank you" for the meals I prepare. He enjoys them; if I ask, "How's your pasta?" he'll say, "Wonderful." But never does he volunteer any gratitude.

Last night I brought this up, saying that I felt unappreciated and wished that he might express thanks. To my dismay, he said he didn't feel any need to say such things because, in essence, cooking dinner is part of my job, just as going to the office each day is his job. He asked, rhetorically, whether I ever say, "Thank you for going to the office," or whether I express gratitude to him when I write a check.

As it happens, I am thankful, aloud, that he supports me and our children. But I feel this is beside the point, and that even if I were an ungrateful slattern, good manners would still dictate that he say "thanks" when he sits down to a meal prepared by me.

Miss Manners, what to do? Am I correct, and is he being rude? If so, by what means can I bring him to concede this basic point of politeness?

GENTLE READER: Did you make dessert? Because this dinner table is badly in need of something sweet.

Instead of requesting sweetness from your husband and providing some for him, you have cast this as an etiquette issue -- and one on which you happen to be wrong.

Mind you, Miss Manners spends half her life trying to get people to say thank you, and another chunk explaining that the home is not an etiquette-free zone. Your husband should thank you every time he asks you to please pass the salt, and you should thank him every time you ask him to please pick up some milk on the way home.

But for him to thank you each night for making him dinner would cast him as a guest in his own home and you as his hostess, rather than his wife. For you to thank him for supporting you would be even worse, as it would cast him as a philanthropist and you as the beneficiary of his largesse.

You are supposed to be a family. Miss Manners would be horrified to hear that you have taught the children to thank you for giving them meals and him for supporting them.

What is lacking here are not acknowledgements of indebtedness, but generous helpings of praise ("Wow, you really outdid yourself") and sympathy ("You poor dear, you work so hard") that you should be passing on to each other.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the length of time a person can take to send a thank you for a birthday gift, Christmas gift or any gift, for that matter?

GENTLE READER: Before the initial enthusiasm for the present subsides, or just after the initial disappointment does. However, Miss Manners sets the time limit at 20 minutes.

:

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the proper position of the little finger when holding a teacup? Raised? I had tea with a local dowager, and she clearly, but not pretentiously, raised the little finger of the hand that was holding her teacup. I know that this is not a question of world-shattering importance, but it is serious, and I am sure that many people would like to know the proper form for holding the teacup.

GENTLE READER: It depends on how old the local dowager is. In the 17th century, when tea was introduced into Europe from China, it was drunk in dainty, handleless cups, and anyone with any sense kept as few fingers as possible on the (yeow!) hot cup.

When some genius invented the handled cup, this was no longer necessary, and Miss Manners finds it astonishing that the gesture has stuck in public memory all these years. Your dowager happens to be the only one who remembers it seriously. Because imported tea had been frightfully expensive, the gesture has lived on for centuries as an affectation of the rich and pretentious.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: In the several months that my boyfriend and I were dating, we were very close indeed, and there was always the idea (though neither of us came right out and said it) that we would eventually marry.

With the breakup, however, I have not let myself fall into the funk that many young women my age in a situation like this seem to sink into. Why waste my time pining for someone who obviously doesn't love me as I thought he did?

I have even struck up somewhat of a relationship with a friend from work. There is no pressure for commitment from either of us, but I like him very much.

Am I being "unfaithful" to my previous relationship by entering into another (though significantly less serious) one so soon? Is it acceptable to give my co-worker a small hug when greeting him at work, or asking him to call me later if one of us leaves before the other?

GENTLE READER: Miss Manners was about to reply indignantly that etiquette does not create unnecessary gloom by demanding that perfectly happy people pretend to suffer, but she realized this is not quite true.

It thoroughly disapproves of dancing on graves and, by extension, over dead marriages. Not that anyone listens. And it requires workers to refrain from hugging one another on the job. However, you will be happy to hear that it does not mandate a period of official moping for broken romances.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: We are the parents of a groom who will wed his fiancee at a destination wedding. We would like to host the rehearsal dinner, but are confused about who should be invited to it. Everyone will be from out of town and to invite all of them just seems like the first of two weddings. We were planning a sit-down dinner party, but then does that exclude a daughter, grandfather, etc.? Help!

GENTLE READER: Too late. Miss Manners cannot rescue you from entertaining people whom you and yours have lured on a vacation trip -- because that is what a destination wedding amounts to. She only wishes she could rescue those who have agreed to vacation with you under the impression that you wanted to spend several days with them.

: