We were having coffee at the kitchen table this morning, one of my housemates and I. I said I was going over to one of our local restaurants today to talk about maybe working a couple of shifts. She paused and kind of laughed. “What are you smirking at over there?” “Oh, I was just thinking about what you would be like as a server.” She laughs again. “And then I was thinking what you’re like as a teacher.” My turn to laugh. I pause. “Well. I’m not into fake. So I’m a lot like I am now, and I particularly like the pause.” The pause is a lot like a the look famous by generations of mothers whose eyes have the capacity to strike fear into the innards of their children. The pause, is a valuable tool. It is not saying I am right, just that I disagree, and maybe if you hear your own words hang in the air, you may see why I am not pleased. But, no hard feelings. No escalation. Just. Wait.