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Sitting at the kids' table

Yesterday Jordan and I went to a local country club to support the athletic association at her school. You pay some money, get to eat a lot of food from a buffet, and watch the Steelers on giant screens. We got there a few minutes after kickoff (mercifully, we missed the all-too-common kickoff return for a TD) and tried to find two seats at one of the many tables. Eventually we came upon an empty table "claimed" by a couple of coats; said table happened to be near one of the screens, so good deal, I thought.

That is until I see a handful of boys heading our way. Not just any boys, mind you, but boys from sixth grade, one of the more challenging classes I have subbed for. As they noticed me sitting there, what can only be described as a look of horror crept over some of their faces. I just smiled sweetly (well, maybe more like sarcastically sweet), and as more boys showed up, I offered to keep moving down, proclaiming there was room for everyone! About 15 minutes later, the priest from our church showed up and asked me if I was chaperoning the boys. Most of them did not look amused; I found it kind of funny. I actually considered sending one or two of them up to get me a drink, but I had a nagging suspicion there might be more than pop in the glass when they returned

It ended up being okay. After the Steelers scored their first touchdown in what seemed like 30 games, I got the table to do the wave. I figured it might be nice to show the kids I can do something else besides teach and tell them to stop talking, and considering the wave made three or four laps around the table, I think it was worth it. Before the first half was over, I ditched the table and actually socialized with grownups. One student (who was not sitting at the table) even came up to me and very politely addressed me by name. Well, something close to my sometimes-hard-to-pronounce last name.

Sure, the Steelers once again lost to a crappy team (sigh). But you have to remember that no one gets to sit at the best table every time; sometimes you end up at the kids' table...

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