DEAR MISS MANNERS: My great-nephew and his wife are having a baby. The following statement was put on their shower invitation: “Masks are not required or needed, but if you think it is necessary, wear one. We want to discourage anyone from talking about politics, and please keep your virus opinions to yourself. If you have trouble starting a conversation, ask us: We can suggest things to talk about.”

I was deeply offended. I am very political, but am mature enough to know when and when not to talk about it. My daughter was also offended. We feel we were singled out because we are the only Democrats in our family and their group of friends.

GENTLE READER: Being both very political, and mature enough not to talk about it at every occasion, is an unusual combination these days.

Miss Manners says this not because she doubts you, but to remind you how desperate modern hosts are to protect their guests from one another. She therefore urges you to take this bossy invitation (which she does not, for the record, condone) stoically -- assuming that everyone received similar instructions, and overlooking the rudeness of criticizing others’ anticipated manners.

However, as masks are optional, you may not want to accept anyway.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I was raised to respond to ”How are you?” or “How is your day going?” questions with a polite “I’m doing well, how are you?” response.

However, when I am greeted by someone at their job, such as a grocery clerk or a fast-food employee, I am loath to ask them the same questions -- not only are they obligated by their jobs to ask me, but they can’t reply with something like, “Oh, I’m having a crap day, dealing with customers for minimum wage.”

So I now respond (against my upbringing) with, “I’m fine, thank you for asking.” But this seems rude, as if I couldn’t care less about them or how they are doing.

GENTLE READER: As a democratic society, we believe in the equality of persons. It is therefore jarring to recognize that there are situations in which the roles are unequal: boss and employee, teacher and student, parent and child, revered elder and smart-alecky youth -- and customer and vendor.

The contradiction is more apparent as, over a lifetime, one expects to shift from role to role. Miss Manners therefore accepts your response, assuring you that it is not rude.

To a shopkeeper who thinks otherwise, she asks if, in asking you about your day, it is their hope to get a full-form response -- or whether it would not be preferable to move on to the next customer and get on with the day.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My uncle ordered a toaster for my husband and me as a gift, but before we received it, the toaster was discontinued and immediately converted to store credit.

How do we write a thank-you for a gift we never received? To say “thank you for the toaster” seems like lying, but to explain the situation seems unnecessary.

GENTLE READER: Thank your uncle for his gift and his thoughtfulness -- with passion and conviction, but without further detail. This will make him think you forgot what he sent (hence the need for passion and conviction).

Unless he inquires further, you will have done your duty. If he does pursue the topic, there should be no embarrassment in telling him what actually happened.

(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: Long ago, I was trained that when someone says “thank you,” you say “you’re welcome” (unless, of course, they aren’t). This has always worked well for me in person and on the telephone.

Now, however, the modern means of communication ensure that I almost never actually hear a co-worker’s voice. Still, when someone emails me a thank-you, I respond with a “You’re welcome!”

I have recently noticed (yes, I’m slow, always was) that no one else does this. So now I wonder if modern etiquette means that not only is my response superfluous, but even perhaps annoying. After all, the only thing to do with an email like that is to delete it.

Not that I’ve received any complaints, but should I stop doing this?

GENTLE READER: Far be it from Miss Manners to discourage conventional courtesies, even superfluous ones. But that is what she is about to do.

Written thanks do not require that acknowledgment. A letter of thanks needs no response unless it is accompanied by a present. (Then it still doesn’t require “you’re welcome,” but does require another letter of thanks for the present -- which the recipient needn’t answer, so that is the end of the chain. Whew.)

Anyway, people’s inboxes are choked with emails, so it would be a good idea to drop this well-meant but unnecessary addition.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Frequently nowadays, people answer their cellular phones, an entirely voluntary action, by stating, “This is X. What is it? I am busy,” or “I can’t talk now. What’s up?” Today, someone said, “I am standing in my linen closet folding sheets. I don’t have time to talk. What is it?”

Can you recommend either 1. a soothing or satisfying internal thought for the caller, who is thinking, “But I did not force you to answer; why must you be so rude?” or 2. an appropriate reply?

GENTLE READER: For the second, Miss Manners suggests, “Oh, sorry, never mind. Goodbye.” This should leave the rude person forever wondering what was up -- which, in turn, should provide the satisfaction requested in the first.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I volunteer at two local nonprofits, writing thank-you notes to donors who contribute to the cause. Overhead is always a concern, especially during these times.

At what dollar value do you send out a thank-you? It costs us about $1.50 to send each one (postage + preprinted card).

GENTLE READER: Then find a cheaper way of thanking people. As you have to acknowledge contributions for tax purposes anyway, surely a note could be slipped in with that.

Miss Manners has always disliked the public ranking of donors, apparently intended to embarrass the smaller ones into buying their way into a higher category. She believes all philanthropists deserve thanks, and presumes that they are giving what they can.

Ignoring them is also short-sighted: Rich donors may not have always been rich.

(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 see people going about their business whose masks have slipped below the nose. It’s maybe because it’s too loose, or it sometimes happens when people have been talking.

Should I say something? I know you are against people running around correcting others, especially strangers. And I don’t want to get into one of those explosive confrontations between people who are for or against wearing masks. These people are wearing masks, it’s just that they’re not wearing them effectively.

GENTLE READER: Calling attention to an accidental error that is easily fixable is indeed different from challenging deliberate defiance. It is a favor, rather than a criticism. But it must be done discreetly.

An obsolete example that comes to Miss Manners’ mind is the way one lady might whisper to another, “Excuse me, but your slip is showing.”

No doubt this requires some explanation. A “slip” is now understood to be a small accident, and Miss Manners doesn’t want to shock anyone by saying that it used to be ladies’ regulation underwear. What is now known as a slip dress was actually worn under a real dress. This was back before revealing one’s underwear was considered intriguing, so the slip was supposed to be entirely concealed.

But accidents happen. And they happened so often that a euphemistic reference, “It’s snowing down south,” would be understood.

Miss Manners has wandered into this quaint tangent in search of a quick hint that can be quietly conveyed to someone whose mask has slipped. She supposes that “Excuse me, your nose is showing” will not do. Nor can she think of a cute geographical reference.

So a quiet “Excuse me, I believe your mask has slipped,” accompanied by a sympathetic smile, will have to do.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Currently, I am in my master’s program, and in a state of intense work within my field. I am also a mother of three and run a nonprofit organization. I’m a busy lady with not a lot of time for B.S.

My friends and family know I am busy, that I am trying to focus, and how important this is to me. These “friends and family” are not only unsupportive, but also contacting me about really arbitrary, useless things.

I just want them to leave me alone for the next few months until my qualifying review. I’ll deal with the “unsupportive” part later. How do I nicely tell people to leave me alone?

GENTLE READER: It’s a good thing that you added the word “nicely.” You sound exasperated, and in danger of saying something that will keep them away when you want them to congratulate you on getting that degree.

If these family members are your minor children, Miss Manners can only offer you sympathy, and she hopes that you find a way to keep them safely occupied. But if they are not members of your household, you should sound apologetic when you tell them that for the next whatever-amount-of-time, you can’t focus with distractions. You are therefore turning off the telephone and not attending to texts, emails or doorbells, but will be happy and relieved when you are again free to have the pleasure of seeing them.

(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.)