Sometimes My Filter Works

A week and change ago, we were doing the study-back days for when the majority of the 8th grade goes on the D.C. trip. I love being on the organizing team because it's important to make the days as fun as possible. There are a variety of reasons kids don't go, and thankfully not being able to afford it is increasingly not one of them due to better fundraising and scholarship opportunities. But, kids can be medically complex (physically and/or mentally), or quirky, or naughty, or do serious sports, or families have decided on a different trip. Probably loads more, too. Because we won't send kids to D.C. or pay for sports or lessons or anything, we typically offer to do a scholarship. But, this year it wasn't needed, which was a lovely change.

At the final day's field trip to the bowling alley, I think the adults had as much fun as the kids. I bowled two games simultaneously on neighboring lanes (I've with kids, one with teacher friends). To be clear, one lane had bumpers and while I didn't do terribly, I am not a good bowler. Once my ball slipped off my hand in the backswing and bounced backwards towards a student who, luckily, found my klutzy moment as hilarious as I found it mortifying. 

As we sat and rested our thumbs and forearms while the kids enjoyed the arcade, one of my administrators who is in Year Two at our school came over to compliment one of our co-worker's (and friend's) kids. Her son is very kind, and inclusive, and polite. 

She said, "He is just an angel. I mean, I'm sure your kids are angels too, but it's been so great to see _____ make new friends and have a great time." 

What she didn't know is that only one other person at our table has kids. My friend sitting next to me is single and childless (but with adorable guinea pigs and a satisfying hobbit-y existence), and me... You know. 

But, I am SO very proud of my functioning filter that day, which is often out of the office. Because I just smiled and nodded, and maybe tilted my head and raised an eyebrow a little snarkily, but I DID NOT say what came to the tip of my tongue:

She said, "He is just an angel. I mean, I'm sure your kids are angels too, but it's been so great to see _____make new friends and have a great time." 

I didn't say, "oh yes, my kids are LITERAL angels, who made homes in Lake Ontario many years ago."

I didn't even say, "well, most of us don't actually have kids, but if we did, they'd be amazing." 

I thought how I don't really know two of the four people at the table, and did I really want to brandish my losses at the bowling Grand Hurrah? Was it necessary? Would it make life better for anyone? Nope.

So, I just let that filter work overtime.