True confession time: I am a worrier. Well, actually, I tell Jeff that I don't worry, I plan for the worst. But, truthfully, I, in all my prideful, sinful "glory", am a worrier. And, while I know God made me just the way he wanted me to be, sometimes I really wish I was one of those people with a Type D personality. I would gladly trade in my Type AAAA personality for a more laid-back model.
Anyway, last night I was reminded that just like brown eyes and dimples, those less desirable traits (like "planning for the worst") run in the family too. And it seems that Payton, who is ten, has inherited my penchant for.....ahem....."planning". Apparently he enjoys laying awake at night thinking about things that are completely out of his control and making himself miserable.
Each night at bedtime, we allow our kids to listen to stories on CD before going to sleep. Last night was Sawyer's night to choose, and he requested to listen to the Orioles game on the radio. (We are trying to enjoy their winning season while it lasts.) Payton was decidedly unhappy about Sawyer's choice and made sure we all knew it. I dealt with his attitude, and as I was leaving the room, he called out "Mom, please turn up the radio." I was shocked. "What? You've been having a fit because you didn't want to listen to the game and now you want me to turn it up?" His response: "Yes, I need it loud so it will drown out my thinking."