DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am very good friends with a couple that I absolutely adore. They both work in public safety and make a LOT of money doing what they do -- so much so, that they travel frequently (four to five times per year).

Their trips aren’t short jaunts to local haunts, but rather all-inclusive, weeks-long trips to faraway foreign lands, and each trip is documented online from the moment they make the reservations until the minute they return (“So exhausted! So glad to be home! So blessed!”).

With the advent of social media, it’s become second nature for people to share everything they do online, but when is enough enough? How do I let them know that I’m happy for their financial success and good fortune, but tired of their constant bragging?

GENTLE READER: Cease following them on social media.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I recently learned (via social media, of course) that a classmate I’d been to school with from kindergarten through senior year passed away, far too young.

We were not intimate friends, and I hadn’t seen her in years, but I remember her vividly and happily, and was sad to hear of her passing. I sent a sympathy card to her mother, essentially saying the above, and mentioning one specific happy memory I had.

Her mother responded with a kind note, surprised to hear from me, but thanking me for expressing my sympathies.

Should I respond to her? It seems awkward not to respond, but is this a conversation that might be considered “closed”?

That the exchange was conducted by postal mail gives me a bit of time to figure out the correct response. Had I been closer to my classmate, it would be an easier question, but she was really just a very nice person I spent all of my childhood and adolescence with, and whose death saddened me.

GENTLE READER: Your schoolmate’s mother’s thanking you was gracious, whether or not she also meant to end the conversation, but it does not necessitate any further communication. She was simply responding in kind. You may, with Miss Manners’ blessing, consider the interaction closed.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: There’s a man in my water aerobics class who always has dried nasal secretions hanging from one or both nostrils. He has lived an interesting life and I enjoy speaking with him, but I can’t stand looking at his face.

If he had a handkerchief or washcloth and wiped his nose once in a while the problem would be solved. Is there any way that I can handle this that is both polite and kind?

GENTLE READER: “Oh dear, these pools are so drying. Let us both go change and clean up before we continue our conversation.”

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I frequently have guests over for cocktails, and usually serve the drinks with an appetizer or two. I always give my guests cloth cocktail napkins to use.

What I have been finding is that many of the younger guests dispose of their napkins in the garbage, rather than leaving them on their plates. (I don’t have the same issue of losing my dinner napkins; guests seem to understand those can be laundered and used again.)

I’m at a loss about what to do, since I don’t always catch the napkins going into the trash. Some of these napkins are quite expensive and are of a vintage where replacements are no longer available.

It seems to me it would be rude to announce to my guests that cloth napkins need not go in the garbage. That seems quite obvious to me. Do you have any suggestions on how to handle this matter?

GENTLE READER: Hide the garbage can. At least until after the cocktail hour. That way, at least your guests will have to go through you before unwittingly throwing away your linens.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My child is the product of infertility treatments that involved donors. My husband and I are not ashamed of this, and have no problem acknowledging our child’s origin with those who need to know or those whom we choose to trust with the information.

Despite a careful selection process, my child was born with a stunning eye/hair color combination that would have been statistically difficult, if not impossible, for us to produce naturally. Acquaintances, and sometimes strangers, often remark upon the brilliance of my child’s features, followed immediately with a comment to the effect of, “How ever did you two produce a child who looks like THAT?”

If they have the gall to wait for a response past my look of incredulity, I often say, “Yes, well, sometimes those recessive genes win the evolutionary battle.”

This then frequently gives rise to further questions about my child’s heritage, demands to know which ancestors displayed the recessive traits, and half-remembered high school biology lectures.

Can you help me find a way to shut down this conversation politely? Miss Manners would not consider kindly the responses that have thus far occurred to me.

GENTLE READER: What these comments are suggesting is an insult to your own genes. Miss Manners permits you to address it politely as such, saying, “Aren’t we lucky to have produced a child that surpasses her parents’ raw materials?”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: What is the proper way to say thank you for receiving cash after the loss of a loved one?

GENTLE READER: Forgive Miss Manners, but she finds herself confounded by the question. Is the cash a form of condolence? Help for funereal costs? A gift to help ease your financial burden in general?

If accepted, it should be treated as any present would be, with a letter of thanks. But while it is no doubt kindly meant, this transfer of cash seems an odd practice. And one that certainly should never be solicited.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My wife and I are liberals and quite accepting of others’ views. My father-in-law is extremely conservative, to the point of listening to far-right programming exclusively.

My son adores his grandpa and loves to spend time at his house, which is a stone’s throw away from ours. In the course of his visits, my father-in-law has expressed to my son his views about particular politicians he thinks are ”ruining” our country, and about gay marriage, gays in the military and abortion.

I cannot abide this, and I want it to stop. I have expressed this to my wife, who has passed this on to him. He was upset, but said he would accept it and stop talking politics to my son.

Now I have the feeling he does not like me or my beliefs. We have had a fairly good relationship for the last 20 years, but now it feels strained.

Should I leave things be or approach him and discuss this problem? I almost think it might be better to let sleeping dogs lie. Your thoughts?

GENTLE READER: That he disliked your beliefs before you spoke up, and that you are not “quite accepting” of his. Miss Manners is afraid that you are far from the only family struggling to maintain harmony despite divisive politics.

You cannot make amends by repeating your objections. But you can make a point of saying how much your son enjoys time with his grandfather, and that he is just too young to understand political issues and the different ways people approach them.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Yesterday on my commuter train home, a woman sat next to me who reeked of cigarettes. She has sat next to me twice before, and it was extremely unpleasant. This time I rose, murmured “I’m going over there -- it’s the cigarettes,” and sat on one of the jump seats. It was a less comfortable seat, but at least I wasn’t bathed in cigarette fumes.

I fear I have given offense, but I was in a quandary. I could not deny her a seat, because the train was crowded. I did not want to move without explanation, which seemed more offensive. How should I have handled this?

GENTLE READER: Relocating suddenly without a word or telling someone she smells bad -- even in a subdued voice -- are equally bad. But your desire to be considerate, and the lack of any righteous indignation directed at your smelly seatmate, gives Miss Manners confidence that you will be able to execute her third alternative: Get up and, with a distracted air, head towards the exit. Then look out the window, as if just realizing that you are nowhere near your stop, and sit down in the nearest open seat. If this will tax either your patience or your acting ability, continue on to the next car.

(Please send your questions to Miss Manners at her website, www.missmanners.com; to her email, dearmissmanners@gmail.com; or through postal mail to Miss Manners, Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas City, MO 64106.)