An old nursery rhyme that reinforced the notion of knowing your place, of accepting your lot in life and not trying to fight that which has been dictated by the fates.

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go.
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living.
And the child born on the Sabbath dayIs bonny and blithe, good and gay.

I was born on a Wednesday if you’re interested… and I made my own contemporary version of the little rhyme too.

Nursery Crimes

Monday’s child has little choice
Tuesday’s child still has no voice
Wednesday’s child never did learn
That Thursdays’ child will crash and burn
So Friday’s child wished she could hide
While Saturday’s child fell by the side
And the child who was born on the Sabbath day
Will work like a dog for a pittance in pay

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