We let our daughter go to the college of her choice. She got into many state and private schools, some with scholarships. But no breaks at all from the expensive private college she selected. She loves it, and we can afford it, but it means constant sacrifice. She knows this, but it doesn’t stop her from regaling us with her friends’ pricey bling and fancy travel. I finally lost it when she ignored the care package I sent during exams, telling me about a friend’s new Cartier necklace instead. She texted: “I wasn’t asking for one.” I replied: “Please stop telling me about your rich friends’ luxuries! I don’t want to hear about them.” What do we do?
MOM
One of the first lessons they teach at advice school is: Never tell an aggravated person to relax. (It just inflames the aggravation!) But it seems pretty natural to me that a young person encountering great wealth for the first time would be a little transfixed by it. I’m sorry your daughter was so breathless about her pal’s fancy necklace that she forgot to thank you for your care package. But this phase will probably pass.
You may be creating an unfair connection between your financial sacrifice and your daughter’s behavior. She’s probably drawn to all kinds of unfamiliar people and things in her new environment (some of them 18 karat), and would be even if she were on full scholarship. You gave her free rein to choose a school. You shouldn’t resent her for the price tag now, or let it color your expectations of her behavior.
What you can do is trust that you raised her well. Your daughter’s head may be turned by shiny things for a minute (or a semester), but life is long. And the values you taught her will likely count for more than secondhand tales of luxury hotels. Still, in the end, it’s her call whether to chase after bling or deeper fulfillment, right?
CreditChristoph Niemann
If You Want to Tickle the Ivories, Ask First
Why do visitors to my home feel that they can sit down and play my piano at parties without asking my permission? Not only does the noise make conversation difficult, it really annoys me! I think it’s as rude as walking into someone’s home and turning on the television. How do I stop this without embarrassing them?
BARBRA
I know only one Barbra, and if this is you, Ms. Streisand, people keep playing your piano because they hope you will burst into song. (But not “Evergreen,” please.) If this is another Barbra, your pianists may be showing off the fruits of their childhood lessons or believe that they’re contributing to the conviviality of your parties.
Unlike your analogy to bursting in and turning on the TV, there is a long tradition of piano music at social events. But this is your home. If you prefer not to have live music, pre-empt it with a little note on the sheet-music stand: “Let’s not have piano music tonight. Thanks!” This will be less hurtful than asking people to stop playing after they’ve begun — which is good, because not one of them means any harm.
Put on a Sweater or Something
My son and his partner are in their 20s and in perfectly good health. But they run cold and crank up the thermostat to 72 degrees when they visit us during colder months. My husband and I prefer to wear layers and keep the thermostat set at 65. It’s a small attempt to save the planet for future generations. What is socially correct here?
KAY
I bet that somewhere in the vast expanse between 65 and 72 degrees, there is a setting you can all live with. (Sixty-eight doesn’t sound earth destroying to me.) As guests, your son and his partner probably don’t pack all the cozy accouterments that you and your husband enjoy: thick cashmere socks, fleece-lined slippers and sweaters for layering. Stock the guest room with warm supplies. Maybe your coldblooded guests will take to them.
About That Invitation …
As a would-be host, how can I withdraw a dinner invitation that I made five days ago in person? The invitee has yet to respond, and the dinner is 10 days hence. The evening was meant to reciprocate a very pleasant meal at this person’s home a month ago. The failure to respond makes me suspect that the invitee is waiting for a better invitation. Am I wrong to feel ill-used?
STAN
I’m sorry that “ill-used” was your go-to feeling, Stan. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and forget what I wanted 45 seconds after I began my journey there. Isn’t it more likely that your friend simply forgot about the invitation? This is a busy time of year, and since you made your kind offer in person, there was no evidence of it after you walked away.
How about calling or texting and asking if dinner at your place is on? No harm in a reminder. I get that extending ourselves to others makes us a little vulnerable. But history argues for generosity here: You two enjoyed a nice evening together just a month ago, right?
For help with your awkward situation, send a question to SocialQ@nytimes.com, to Philip Galanes on Facebook or @SocialQPhilip on Twitter.
