Two friends with strong opinions offer advice to whoever is brave enough to seek it. As one of their partners says, "But you have no qualifications!" That's the fun. Send us a question and see.
Why is it that people assume that it is okay to hold another person’s baby? I know they’re cute and all, but excuse me, that is my baby!
One month ago yesterday, my wife and I had our second child. Since then, some visitors (friends, relative, and the like) found an uncontrollable urge to pick up our baby, without asking us, mind you.
Yesterday, my sister-in-law stopped over. She wanted to hold the baby, so my wife asked her to please wash her hands, particularly since there is a rather virulent strain of influenza in our town. My sister-in-law refused to wash her hands, and then proceeded to pick up the baby!
From your podcasts, I understand you are also a father. Could you and Rhylla please help me with this situation?
Miss Rhylla writes:
I confess I do not have a baby of my own but if I had gone to the trouble of bearing a child I imagine I would be somewhat peturbed if someone decided to put their germy, rough hands all over him/her with not so much as a nod in my direction.
In the words of Hilary, it may take a village to raise a child but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask the villagers to back off, or at least wash their hands and wait their turn.
As new parents I reckon you should go with laying down the law. Your wife can always claim it was the hormones talking if things get out of hand - but hey. Your baby. Your rules. When you are operating on limited sleep I say you get to make the call.
Can I have a hold now? Let me just put down my vodka tonic and wipe this axle-grease off my hands first…
Steven writes:
Jack, my son, was born in post-colonial Hong Kong and, even in 1998, a white baby was enough of a rarity that people would stop me on the street and ask to be photographed holding him. Some parents I knew refused: they worried that inuring their babies to strangers would stop the baby screaming if it were being abducted; I think better of my fellow man, despite what you might think from reading this blog or listening to the podcast.
As a consequence, Jack has been held in all manner of ways by all manner of people whose health and hygiene I couldn’t vouch for. That said, if I thought one of them was ill or was going to hurt him with shonky baby-handling technique, I’d have refused or swooped down and pulled Jack from their clutches.
No one gets to hold your baby without your permission and no one gets to do it at a time or in a way that isn’t cool with you. I decided as soon as Jack was born that his wellbeing was my paramount responsibility and anyone who put his healthy or happiness in jeopardy could, quite frankly, go @$%! themselves if they didn’t like my intervening.
Jonathan writes: The other day I walked past a colleague’s desk and noticed he was surfing porn sites — at the office! Apart from our firm’s technology use policy, this is unacceptable behaviour. Shouldn’t he leave the porn-surfing at home?
Miss Rhyllasays: I suggest getting the IT guys to rig up some software enabling the contents of your esteemed colleague’s computer to be tracked and perhaps screened at the next all staff meeting.And then have him walked from the building.
Steven says: I desperately want to find some way to say what the guy was doing was okay, just because I’m contrary and I think there’s too much reaction to porn, but I can’t, I just can’t.
No one should be surfing porn at the office. More than anything, it reveals you to be too stupid to hold a job. I like Miss Rhylla’s idea, although — and you saw what he was surfing, so you might know — if he gets off on public humiliation, it might be just what he was after.
I am an American by birth, I am both well-travelled and have an intense affection for the English language. Thus, I speak with an exactness that tends to put some people off. I do not wish to alter my speech patterns to the current sloppy American vernacular. How do I best handle rude remarks, e.g.; “You’re American aren’t you? Why do you talk like you’re trying to sound like the Queen of England?” Any thoughts?
Steven says:
Lauren, Lauren, Lauren, how I hear your song. While I don’t sound like Her Britannic Majesty, I do get pulled up all the time for using “big words”. People, just because you don’t know what it means, doesn’t make it a “big” word.
Some of my friends are fans of functional linguistics, the philosophy that comprehension matters above all. “Give it me” may not be polite or grammatical but if I understand you would like me to give you something, mission accomplished. Speaking of which: George W. Bush would be a poster child for functional linguistics. I’m not a fan but I do understand language is evolving; and, conversely, phrases I think of as modern often turn out to be no such thing. HMQ might think of “hanging out” as a vulgar Americanism, for instance, but Keats was writing in the early 19th century of “hanging out” with his friends in London.
Obviously this is a favourite topic of mine but to get to the point…
I think our answer is in your question, Lauren: exactness puts most people off. I am often confused by someone speaking less than exactly or offended by someone who uses a word incorrectly, not realising the effect it will have on someone who knows what it means. I’ve had many unpleasant rows on the back of these misunderstandings; half the battle being to get the other person to at least understand that I’m not striking a pose: I was truly confused or genuinely offended. I always feel that I come out the loser because those who are not exact will never understand those of us who are. What they will understand is that we’re difficult and hard to be around sometimes.
But enough about me.
My experience tells me you and I, Lauren, are in in the minority. The dictionary — and often logic and reason — might be on our side, but if we want to be happy and move among the relaxed people, we’re just going to have to suck it up and loosen up. Supermarkets will always tell us to “use less plastic bags” (it’s FEWER goddamn it, FEWER plastic bags); Outlook will continue to want to make appointments for 12 p.m. (there is NO SUCH TIME: 12 is the meridian, fools, it can be neither ante nor post the meridian); and some of my friends will continue to use agreed meeting times as guidelines. But I’ll always be glad to see them when they get there.
Miss Rhylla says:
I am going to be dreadfully predictable and come down squarely on your side, Lauren. You are preaching to the choir with me.
You stick to your guns. A love of language and desire to communicate with clarity is a wondrous thing. As is accuracy with an apostrophe.
I venture your hecklers are threatened and confused, so I would caution against cornering them. Simply turn on your heel and take your beautifully crafted sentences with you, no point scattering pearls before swine.
If I send a text message to you, is it rude for you to immediately phone me back instead of responding with a text? I am of the opinion that communication should be kept intact unless otherwise noted. For example, I do not phone somebody in response to an email. If I get a text, I text back.
What do you think?
Steven says:
Texts are succinct by their nature. I’m not. For me to type a cogent, well-punctuated one-thumb reply takes an age so I’m going to choose a medium that suits my style. And I think that’s my choice. If you don’t want to wallow in one of my polysyllabic circumlocutions, don’t contact me. And let’s not forget that half of written communication is misunderstood so communication by phone can lead to fewer misunderstandings.
There’s no universal view of texts . Some people think texts are a good medium for everything from “running late” to “you’re fired” or the first “I love you“.* Others, like me, don’t — everyone knows you save that first “I love you” to shout above the noise of the bedstead hitting the wall.
Casual study suggests it’s an age thing. If you had a mobile at school, you’re more likely to find texts suitable for everything than those of us who had to pick up the phone or — gasp — walk round to someone’s door. No one’s right or wrong about that, but communication — like taking the piss out of someone — only works if it works for both of you.
Although I support channel-shifting, it doesn’t cut both ways. If I call you and leave a voicemail, for instance, I might find it dismissive if you jump channels and reply by text. Depending on what we were trying to talk about, I might infer from a phone-to-text swap that you didn’t want to speak to me. Why don’t you want to speak to me, Jake, why?
* NB After the first time, I’ll take “I love you” in any medium I can get it.
Miss Rhylla says:
Ahh Jake… you’ve asked the wrong girl this question. I am not a mad fan of the sms so am likely to pick up the phone at the slightest provocation. It’s often quicker in the end and skips over all those misunderstandings that are so easily created in text messages. Don’t even start me on the perils of intuitive text.
The exception for me is when I know someone is at work or in a meeting (or otherwise unavailable to chat) but needs an update type note - that is where sms comes into its own. I just don’t think it should ever try to replace ‘real’ communication. It’s a great supplementary form of keeping in touch but nothing beats a proper chat, or even better, a handwritten card.
I realise that it is considered bad form to point out the rudeness and/or incompetence of others, however, rude behaviour and general incompetence is ubiquitous in America, specifically in L.A. In your view, when, if ever, is it appropriate to tell someone that their behaviour is adversely affecting me?
Never seem wiser, nor more learned, than the people you are with. Wear your learning, like your watch, in a private pocket: and do not merely pull it out and strike it; merely to show that you have one.
But I’m pretty much screaming that I’m an over-educated pompous sausage wallet by taking the words of an 18th century noblemen as my creed. (Using the word “creed” probably doesn’t help, either.)
Frankly, there’s too much sensitivity now to the lowest common denominator and we’re doing ourselves a disservice by not clipping that unruly child about the ear or pulling someone up for being inconsiderate. Why shouldn’t we try to raise each other to higher standards instead of accepting the lower standards of morons because we don’t want to say, “Excuse me, young man, I wonder if you would mind taking your phone sex off the bus. To be frank, I’m not that interested in knowing that Suzie wants it harder.”
If we don’t speak up, the unruly and inconsiderate win. And we can’t have the lower orders winning.
To paraphrase the earl, Lauren, I say go for it.
Miss Rhylla says:
As two people who rant routinely on such issues and broadcasters of a show “where we tell you how to live your life” I suspect our answers will not surprise anyone.
I confess the urges to chase people down the street to return their dropped rubbish, to tut-tutt at smokers and queue jumpers is growing by the day. The world is just such a better place to be in when there is a dash of civility and grace to grease the wheels.
The worry of course is that a simple “excuse me” can get you into a bag of trouble. Tightly wound commuters and already aggressive folks could turn on you at a moment’s notice. So you might need to be ready to scamper. Or learn karate. It’s a tough, rude world out there.
From the stench wafting around the cubicles, I’d wager someone’s brought a kipper in for lunch.
To my mind this is grossly inappropriate. I like fish, but I wouldn’t subject my co-workers to such a pungent piscatorial platter.
It’s the second time in as many weeks, and I’m concerned this may become a habit. Honestly, it reeks.
My initial thought was to follow the stink to the evildoer, Bisto-kid style, and initiate a conversation with the gambit, “I didn’t know your mother was visiting the office today”. But I need a more tactful way of putting a stop to this folie du fruits de mer without developing a reputation for being “meal-odramatic”.
Any ideas?
Steven says:
Confrontation is always my first choice in theory but I can never quite manage it. At my former office we had a middle-aged head of facilities who was a legend-in-his-own-lunchtime. He liked nothing more than sending out heartfelt memos about the state of the communal kitchen. I suggest you find your office equivalent and grease them up to send out a memo aimed at “no one in particular”.
In the absence of such a person — and if you fancy a bit of confrontation — how about an email to the whole office: “Inspired by X’s pungent choice today, I’m proposing an office competition to see who can microwave the most evil-smelling lunch. Points will be awarded for the reach, duration and obnoxiousness of the smell. X has set a high standard but I’m sure between us we can come up with something even more rancid.”
“P” I smell your pain. Methinks this points to a greater problem however. We are doing more and more things at our desk that perhaps would be best carried out in another location altogether. Slurping laksa, trimming nails, scattering crumbs and lord knows what else while we email, make calls and update our Facebook status at the same time. So smells, mess and office disquiet are inevitable.
Famed Aussie enthusiast of all things scientific, Dr Karl, once told a great yarn about how a quick swab test around the average office showed that we would be better off eating off the toilet seat than at our grotty desks.
I am of the view that kippers are inappropriate regardless of whether it’s a toilet or an office cubicle and that an outdoor setting really might be better for all concerned. But maybe you can let your fish-loving friend know that you are worried about their health and suggest they dine in a cleaner, more suitable environment…
I am just off to heat up my anchovy and pepperoni pizza and scatter it around my desk.
Where to begin in a show in which Rhylla at various times utters the words “genital wart”, “pap smear” and “explosive diarrhoea”? And by-the-by Steven’s continuing his campaign to get old favourites like “bounder” and “sausage wallet” back into everyday speech.
But on a manners front, and that is what we’re all about, we talk about disciplining other people’s children, the amount of disclosure needed around a one-night-stand, bad friends and all sorts of other nonsense. You’ll really need to listen to find out what.
And don’t forget to join our Facebook group because we love hearing from you.
It’s a packed show with lots of feedback from listeners on questions such as how many bottles of wine a couple should take to a party; how couples should split bills with singles; and informal emails. But the kicker is how much information should you share with your colleagues about your mistresses.
And don’t forget to join our Facebook group because we love hearing from you.
The listeners are in the driving seat this episode with questions on manners from Huw (dinner parties), Kathryn (pregnancy), Trent (house guests) and Victoria (a complete nut job — a friend of Victoria’s, not Victoria herself).
Rhylla brings the full force of afternoon drinks in the office to bear on her answers; and Steven implores you all to join our Facebook group, Friends of The Rules Podcast.
Jonathan writes:
Jonathan writes: The other day I walked past a colleague’s desk and noticed he was surfing porn sites — at the office! Apart from our firm’s technology use policy, this is unacceptable behaviour. Shouldn’t he leave the porn-surfing at home?
Lauren writes: 
Jake of 
Lauren writes:
“P” writes:
Where to begin in a show in which Rhylla at various times utters the words “genital wart”, “pap smear” and “explosive diarrhoea”? And by-the-by Steven’s continuing his campaign to get old favourites like “bounder” and “sausage wallet” back into everyday speech.
It’s a packed show with lots of feedback from listeners on questions such as how many bottles of wine a couple should take to a party; how couples should split bills with singles; and informal emails. But the kicker is how much information should you share with your colleagues about your mistresses.
