DEAR MISS MANNERS: I live next door to a small grocery that I visit several times a week. All of the cashiers recognize me. A few of them ask questions or make insights that feel intrusive, along the lines of, "You've really had a sweet tooth lately," or "Looks like you were having a party in your back yard the other day, did you have fun?"

I don't want to be unkind, but sometimes it feels like these strangers know more about my day-to-day life than my close friends and family do. Is there a polite way to shut down these conversations?

GENTLE READER: Of course these people, and many others with whom you deal, can easily deduce information about your life. That is unavoidable. What you find objectionable is the failure to recognize that this is, in a sense, privileged information, not an invitation to a discussion.

But their intrusion is understandable in a society holding the belief that friendliness -- not just politeness -- is universally desirable, regardless of whether it is attached to actual friendship. There is also widespread failure to understand privacy and its requirement that some things should pass unremarked: It would be intrusive for even a friend to remark on how many sweets you eat or whether you had a party to which the friend was not invited.

Certainly you do not want to be so unkind and rude as to tell your grocers to mind their own business. Instead of taking up their conversation openers, you need only smile and then parry with one of your own. Miss Manners trusts that they will not consider "The tomatoes look wonderful -- are they from around here?" an intrusive question.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I hosted a Super Bowl party and have been upset ever since.

My husband and I spent days planning, shopping, prepping and making a buffet dinner for about 20 people. Our teenage daughter set a lovely table using our good china and crystal. Most of our guests respected our request to "Please, just show up."

However, a few came in with dishes in ugly grocery store containers, or Tupperware, or plates they would not be too upset to leave behind -- and set all that on the buffet table. None of that stuff fit with our menu and most remained uneaten, but I had to wait till everybody left to throw it all away, therefore not being able to serve dessert the way I had planned.

I am BEGGING you to reiterate to your readers that, when invited to a hosted dinner party, they MUST NOT bring supplies.

How should I put my foot down politely here? I enjoy this annual party a lot, and people love coming. However, I am at the point that I don't want to do it anymore.

GENTLE READER: Goodness knows that Miss Manners has been trying for years to teach people not to try to cater their friends' parties unless specifically told that these will be cooperative meals. If guests feel that they must bring something, it should be chocolates or flowers, not part of the meal itself.

Would it work to warn them that no contribution cancels the need to reciprocate hospitality? Probably not. But you may grab their dishes away from them and say, "Thank you, we'll look forward to enjoying this tomorrow. As I told you, today's dinner is all prepared."

(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: Our home is the gathering place for all celebrations on my husband's side of the family. Whenever we issue an invitation, we have four of his siblings to contact as well as various adult nieces and nephews and his elderly father and aunt.

Each of these people seems to require a different method of communication. Some text, some email, some require phone calls, and one only responds to invitations on Facebook.

It's way too complicated to issue a casual potluck invite and to keep track of who responds to what, so I use email only. Everyone (but the elderly whom we call in respect to their needs) has email, but some don't care to check it more than every couple of weeks. If they miss out on our gatherings or general family news, I maintain I'm not at fault. But then I seem to get blamed when they do. What do you say?

GENTLE READER: That you need not accept blame for unopened emails. Miss Manners recommends that instead you try sending them all hand-written invitations. Your family will like it even less -- but you will have satisfied the otherwise sarcastic question, "Did you need a handwritten invitation?"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A proposal went out to the club's board members via email asking for suggestions. I was the very first to answer. Not 30 minutes later, one of the members answered with the same suggestions, tweaking the words around a bit but basically making the exact same suggestions.

No one seemed to notice; in fact, their email responses said, "Great ideas" to Janice first, and then to me. She really is small, petty and jealous of everything about everyone. She does this frequently, and I'm finding it irritating, at best. How can I call her out without looking petty?

GENTLE READER: "I am so glad that Janice agrees about this." The best antidote to someone else's pettiness, Miss Manners maintains, is resisting it oneself.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My daughter-in-law comes to visit with her three young sons. I like her very much, and the grandchildren are darling! We have a nice dinner and a lovely visit.

But she stays late and the children get overtired, loud and out of control. There is a lot of screaming, and I have to retire to my room. My bedtime is 9:30, but apparently the grandchildren stay up much later. Is there a nice way to suggest she take the children home before the chaos is so ... chaotic?

GENTLE READER: You may not be able to dictate the children's bedtime, but you can protect your own. Miss Manners recommends planning your dinners earlier, telling your daughter-in-law, "I know that your children are lucky enough to stay up late, but I am afraid that I have a firm bedtime. Please forgive me if I retire early, but I find myself becoming a grouchy muffin if I'm up too late. I hate to set a bad example for the children."

(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: When I was a guest in some friends' home, my bathroom had a cat box in it, which smelled bad, and the cat frequently knocked litter all over the floor.

I asked where a broom was. My friend swept it up with one and pointed to where it was stored, never moving the box or apologizing.

She knew that I had a longtime milk allergy and tried to plan accordingly. However, the husband, who fancies himself a chef, kept trying to offer me dishes I couldn't eat and was upset when I declined.

I brought a proper gift, bought them a dinner and thought I behaved correctly, but I didn't think the visit went well.

GENTLE READER: Did you suppose that your friends hated the scented candle you brought them so much that they were quietly trying to kill you with cat smells and milk?

Miss Manners concedes that it was not nice for the kitty litter cleaning to be left to you and for the husband to push food on you, but recommends that you call this behavior what it is: mindless thoughtlessness. You might find other accommodations next time you are in their city.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: It happens, not so infrequently, that during a conversation where I am relating a story to a friend, the friend interrupts and gives an account of a similar situation that has happened to her. I then politely listen to her story, and by the time she finishes, the content of my tale has lost its significance.

This usually happens with well-meaning friends. I don't want to alienate them with a rude response, but at the same time, it would be nice to be able to finish my story before they so eagerly jump in to tell theirs. How should I handle this type of waning etiquette?

GENTLE READER: Talk faster? Barring that, Miss Manners recommends that you try returning to your narrative, saying, "Oh dear, I got so wrapped up in your story that I am afraid I lost track of mine," followed by a wistful look and a polite but weak smile. And then resolve to model good behavior and be an advocate for someone else the next time there is an impolite interruption.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I have noticed a peculiar attempt at good manners: the second-hand thank-you.

An example -- and I could cite many -- came from an acquaintance who asked a mutual friend to thank me for a sympathy card I had recently sent to her.

Knowing that it is unnecessary for cards of this sort to be acknowledged, to receive a second-hand thank-you strikes me as worse than none at all. Am I guilty of splitting hairs?

GENTLE READER: Allow Miss Manners to split one for you -- and make you feel much better about being annoyed in the first place. A response is necessary for a letter of sympathy, although not for pre-printed statements accompanied only by a signature. Second-hand thank-yous, though, are lazy at best and put undue burden on an innocent third party. So split away.

(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.)