That Bad Habit...

My boyfriend and I have developped this bad habit of making a running commentary on the lives of everyone around us. Normally, the people we come across aren't English speakers, so we comment on where we think they're going, what we think they're doing, how they could improve their looks, etc. Though they occasionally receive curious looks from us, they generally have no idea what's being said about them.
Last Sunday, Stephan and I were sitting in church, and this man and his son walked in.
"I wonder how he got his wife..." Stephan mused.
"Really?" I asked, "Because I feel like he's way better looking than she is."
"I know," he replied. "That's what I meant."
"Strangely, they've got a cute son," I said.
We then, moved onto something else, talking about the music or what the message would be or something equally banal. But a few minutes later, the pastor got up and announced that we'd be having a guest speaker that day.
"Please welcome Trevor Harris," he said.
My heart dropped as the man directly in front of us stood up with a curious smile on his face. Trevor Harris isn't a French name. It's a very, very English name.
Realizing this, I tried to replay our whole conversation over in my head, and I felt my face get so red. And then, I tried to remember how loud we'd been talking...could it have been a whisper? Or was it in a regular voice?
By the end, the only conclusion I came to was that it would be best to never, ever say anything that I wouldn't want to be overheard.
There we go. That's New Year's Resolution #3412.