DEAR MISS MANNERS: Through no one’s fault, I was born on the worst date ever.

Each birth anniversary, there’s a well-meaning but hurtful practical joke. Everyone -- family, friends, teachers, co-workers, boyfriends -- thinks they’re the first person to play their joke and expects me to laugh. Because I love them, I try to play along, but it gets tougher each year.

I open beautifully wrapped presents, but there’s nothing in the box (APRIL FOOL!), or birthday cards are full of glitter or other messes (APRIL FOOL!). I get visits from “police” with arrest warrants (APRIL FOOL!), “CPS caseworkers” with orders to seize my child (APRIL FOOL!). I answer wee-hour calls telling me to rush to hospital because somebody’s hurt (APRIL FOOL!).

My husband asks for a divorce (APRIL FOOL!) and bosses fire me (APRIL FOOL!). I’ve bitten into birthday cakes flavored with hot sauce or baked with salt instead of sugar (APRIL FOOL!).

The church women’s society met on my birthday. When I arrived, they jumped out yelling “Surprise!” For a moment I was touched and elated, but the joke was that it wasn’t a party for me.

I tried -- really I did -- but 26 years was too much. A few tears escaped, so I ran to my car and left.

The ladies called to apologize and explain they were just having some fun with me. I had my husband say I wasn’t home.

I don’t want to be an old sourpuss who can’t take a joke, but I don’t know how to face them or think of a nice way to ask friends to please stop pranking me on my birthdays. What is a gracious way to get out of this?

GENTLE READER: As appalling as you will find this suggestion, Miss Manners suggests playing tricks on them. And that is to pretend that after 26 years of enduring these mean-spirited attempts at humor, you fail to recognize them as such.

So when the box is empty, look up puzzled and ask, “Was there supposed to be something in here?” When your boss pretends to fire you, say sadly, “I loved this job, and I tried to do my best at it.” When you bite into the cake, make a slight face and decline having more without explanation.

They will then be forced to retreat, as the church ladies did. At that point, you can say a quiet “April Fool” -- not uppercase, not with exclamation marks, not with a smile -- and explain that you have been enduring all that your whole life.

Oh, and when your husband asks for a divorce? Tell him you will call your lawyer. And if he hasn’t yet understood how these supposed "jokes" affect you, you may mean it.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Is it polite to blow on your spoon of newly served, very hot soup?

GENTLE READER: No. Sorry. But that does not mean that Miss Manners is fine with your burning your tongue. You need only fill your spoon and hold it aloft for a moment while making a few seconds of charming remarks to your dinner partner.

(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: Last night, my wife and I participated in a trivia night event at a local establishment. It was our first time there, and neither of us cared about winning the competition. We were really there to support the host, our daughter’s boyfriend.

It was a small event, with five teams of two to three people per team. My wife and I were one team. In the middle of one of the rounds, I received a call back from someone I had left a message for earlier in the day -- someone I knew years ago socially -- about recommendations for a personal trainer in my area.

When I returned to our table about five minutes later, my wife -- usually a rational and levelheaded person -- was uncharacteristically angry. She called my behavior rude and said I should not have taken the call, but rather let it go to voicemail.

We got back into the game but argued about the phone call again on the way home. We eventually agreed we just cannot see eye to eye on this situation. I am perplexed. Was I wrong to take this call?

GENTLE READER: You left your wife to answer trivia questions on her own? Unacceptable! While you may not have felt particularly competitive, it is still painful to be left solely responsible for what was supposed to be a team effort.

Miss Manners believes that in this case, your phone call was far more trivial than the trivia. She suggests you apologize to your wife.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: Being a brunette, I started getting gray hair in my early 20s, and it became noticeable in my mid-20s. I dyed my hair from about ages 26 to 32 to hide it but decided to stop, due to cost and it being generally not healthy.

I’m now heading toward my late 30s and am probably one-third gray. I receive so many comments from so many people about my gray hair. It’s never good/positive comments, and almost 100% from males.

They’ll say things about how I should dye it to look younger, ask why I don’t dye it, or say I would look so much better with it dyed. Some are co-workers or others I know personally; other times, it’s random strangers I’m interacting with for the first time.

I think it’s rude. I never know how to respond. Any suggestions?

GENTLE READER: “I’m so sorry it bothers you. I’m happy with it.”

DEAR MISS MANNERS: A friend of my parents likes to “teach” people, of all ages, new words. After someone has said something, she will introduce a word that she thinks they could have used:

“So, your brother wanted to aggrandize the situation, did he? Aggrandize it?”

“You don’t think her excuse had a modicum of truth? Not a modicum?”

Some people might find this acceptable if a child is being taught, but she will do this to adults in their 70s -- who are 10 to 15 years older than her.

GENTLE READER: Perhaps you can come to their defense by saying, “Great Aunt Twyla, you choose your words so meticulously. They are meticulously chosen.”

(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: It would seem my soft-spoken and polite nature attracts big personalities with a desperate need for a sidekick. I can play the background character well, out of mannerly consideration for what seems to be a desire for affirmation.

Lately, however, I’m a bit exasperated with all this nonsense. Why shouldn’t a fairly attractive, well-educated and well-spoken woman such as myself also take center stage occasionally?

I’m not sure why this is a surprise to my extroverted friends. It’s as if they’ve been struck by lightning when I “show up” for the party. I even detect passive-aggressive levels of jealous hostility and competitive behavior at times.

I'm wondering where I am missing it when vetting these types of friendships from the beginning. How do I assert my right to appear fully, in my own life, for these people who just want a shadow of me to clap for them?

GENTLE READER: The current zeitgeist calls this Main Character Energy. Miss Manners calls it narcissism. Taking advantage of a good and polite listener is not a sign of friendship, especially if occasionally asserting yourself is perceived as threatening.

Good companionship is not a competitive sport. One seeks to find intimates who are willing to share the attention and at least feign equal interest in the other person’s life. The give and take should be roughly equal.

How to avoid this type of behavior in the first place? The Maya Angelou quote, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time” comes to mind.

DEAR MISS MANNERS: My husband and I have been unable to come up with an appropriate substitute for a general letter heading.

In the past, “Dear Sirs” was often used, or “Dear Sirs/Madams,” but this is not gender-neutral. “To whom it may concern” sounds very pompous to our ears. Some websites have suggested “Dear Persons,” but that doesn’t sound correct to us.

Can Miss Manners offer a substitute?

GENTLE READER: "Dear Sir" was a general heading only when everyone in business was assumed to be male; it adapted once by offering the alternative "Dear Madam," which appears to have pleased exactly no one.

Miss Manners is therefore now prepared to accept "Dear Customer Service Representative," "Dear [Company]" and similar substitutions -- if not "Hey You" or "Pay Attention!"

DEAR MISS MANNERS: I am part of a social group of nine people who meet monthly for lovely luncheons at local restaurants. I often order garlic bread as my appetizer, while others enjoy soup or salad as theirs.

Inevitably, someone always asks me to “pass the breadbasket,” assuming it is an offering of the restaurant, whereupon I sheepishly answer, “You are welcome to enjoy a piece, but it is my appetizer." I am often left breadless.

Is there a kind yet clear way to communicate that this is MY appetizer without sounding impolite?

GENTLE READER: “It’s good, isn’t it? I actually ordered this as my appetizer, but let’s get another one for the table.”

(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.)