This is a special edition of Ask the Wordsmith. This is a much more aggressive approach to this feature than you guys are used to. This edition is special because I'm not answering people's questions to the Wordsmith today; I'm hijacking another advice column. I felt it was important.

See, I just read an advice column in the September Edition of Reader's Digest, by columnist Jeanne Marie Laskas, and you know what? She is terrible! She seems to have a great distaste for the idea of answering the questions she's asked. Her answers are short, uninformative, unimaginitive, and useless. I intend to make up for her short-comings. Yes, I am capable of giving serious advice, on serious topics, moreso even than a nationally published columnist who's actually paid to do it.

I'm going to present the original question, then I'm going to present her answer. After that, I will scorn and ridicule her, and hope that those poor people hear about me. I will, of course, be writing Laskas to tell her I've hijacked her column. I have no intention of hiding this fact, and I encourage you to consider writing in to Reader's Digest Canada as well, should you think I am justified in my treatment of her advice.

Let's begin.

Q: I've spent the past two years living independently at college. I've managed my social life and schoolwork successfully, but when I go home, I'm treated like a child. My mom wants to control every aspect of my life, down to the clothes I wear. How do I get her out of my hair and wardrobe?

Mommy's Toy

A: Dear Toy,
Realize, first of all, that she's normal. In a mother's mind, the time between diaper changing and college is a nanosecond. She can't stop fussing over you because you are, and always will be, her baby. Embrace this reality--and embrace her! Put your arms around her and say, "Mom, your work here is done. I'm all grown up. You did a great job. I can handle most of it on my own now." And promise her you'll be back for advice when you can't.

So Laskas' idea of an answer is, "Get used to it, she's normal." Allow me to put this in perspective: Mommy's Toy has been in college for two years. That puts Toy at the age of twenty, at least. Mommy is treating Toy, in Toy's words, "like a child." I'm inclined to agree--down to the clothes Toy wears!? For crying out loud, woman, cut the damn cord!
I'm inclined to believe that Laskas has a son or daughter in college, and she's imagining them accusing her of smothering them. Advice for Laskas: READ THE LETTER. There's no reason under the sun why any mother should be meddling in her twenty-something child's wardrobe. I don't care how many piercings, tattoos, or buckles Toy may or may not have, Toy is an adult.

Dear Toy:
You are being smothered. You know this. You are being treated like a child. There is one friendly way out of this: You must not return with your belongings again. Visit, share meals, but live elsewhere, paying rent and buying your own groceries, with or without room-mates. So long as you live under her roof, she will impose on you her idea of what you are or should be. It's much easier to communicate the idea that you are an adult when you're relying on her for absolutely nothing. In this scenario, you may actually spend enough time away from her impositions to remember fonder memories, and maybe come across moments in your life when you might even want her opinion, but you're going to relish in the freedom long before you ever ask.
The alternative, as I see it, is to keep quiet, grit your teeth and bear it, and then come to dread the end of the next school year. You'll resent her, you'll avoid her, and you'll come to hate her, your irritation reaching boiling point in an explosive argument in which you say things that you damn well do mean at that moment, but you regret by morning, at the latest.
The choice is yours.

Q: My husband hired his little sister to work in our office. She came in while I was with a client and sat on a filing cabinet, coughing and blowing her nose. The customer was clearly uncomfortable, so I asked my sister-in-law to go to the restroom to blow her nose and wash her hands. Later, Sis told my husband I had humiliated her. Was I wrong?

Ms. Clean

A:Dear Clean,
Nope. She needs to learn that for the health of the business, the customer's feelings come first. But chastising her in front of clients is not the way to handle such situations or keep peace in the family.

No, you're right. But it was wrong of you to do what you did.
How exactly is that an answer? In spirit, I agree, but in practice, I'll not stand by your actions? The question, "Was I wrong?" did not refer to whether or not Sis should have been sharing her audibles in front of the client, Clean wanted to know if she was wrong in her choice of action. When people ask a question, try to be aware of what they're asking. Try a few simple exercises, if you have trouble with this.
1: Add tiny words, and see if it changes the meaning. "Was I in the wrong?" more obviously refers to decisions made or actions taken, but in this case, I think the context should make it clear enough that this is the question being asked.
2: Look at the reverse of the question, in this case, "Was she right?" to which the answer should leap to your mind, Laskas, a bright brilliant DUH!

Clean:
You were not wrong. First of all, ignoring the coughing and nose-blowing, she came in and sat on the filing cabinet? This would be awkward and unprofessional in a large office, and in a small one just screams amatuer to the client.
Now add the noise and sanitation concerns. IS IT OBVIOUS YET, LASKAS?Then, Sis has the audacity to tell big brother that she was humiliated by the fact that Clean drew more attention to her than she was already drawing to herself. I'm going to go out on a limb and say this is Little Sister's first or second job, and Client was a reasonably appealing man. That's what I get from Sis' claims of humiliation.
Message to Sis:
The client base is not your dating pool. They're not coming to meet girls, they're coming to conduct business. Also, the filing cabinet may make a comfortable enough seat for staff meetings, but people who pay money expect professionalism, so when they're in the office, SEAT=CHAIR. Got it?

Q: A friend of mine got her dream job. I'm a waitress with two kids, and I'm going to night school. She's single and lives rent-free with her parents. We met for coffee and dessert to celebrate, and after we finished, she walked off and left me with the bill, even though I'd asked her to split it. She paid but griped that I should treat her because she'd just landed this great job. If I had her salary, I would. Who should pay in a situation like this?

Confused

A: Dear Confused,
For heaven's sake, buy your friend a cup of coffee and give yourself a good talking-to about envy.

Envy? Envy!? That's what you get from this letter? What the hell has Confused got to feel envious about? She's working toward her future just the same, hence the night school. What she's saying by citing her situation is that what money she has is carefully rationed.
I used to have an income while living with my parents. As far as I was concerned, it was disposable. Sure, I wish I had some of it now, but that's not the point. The point is, money is spent more freely when you don't pay rent, and you take it rather for granted, knowing only that it's yours, and having notions of what you can buy with it.
Now, I pay bills, rent, insurance, food costs, and I look forward to some mystical time in the future when I can afford to buy myself a new pair of shoes, rather than picking up a couple of sets of Dr. Scholl's and some new laces, and hoping it'll last. So I'm telling you, Laskas, I'm on Confused's side here. Since you don't seem to give that any thought, I'm going to guess you're either making enough as an advice columnist to make your single-page pay negatable, or you're married to the major bread-winner of your home.

Dear Confused:
In this situation, the finer points of etiquette are for the people who don't go to night school while buying groceries on tips. While I'm not going to guess at what "dessert" might have been/cost, I know it was more than a two-dollar cup of coffee. If your friend thinks she should be treated for getting her dream job (note: dream jobs rarely pay poorly) she should ask Mommy and Daddy, not someone who has to worry about whether the kids will need new shoes before the paycheques allow for them.
Sleep well, Confused, you're in the clear.

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