By Anita Garner
Well shoot, Mother Goose, I thought this was some of your work but now I find it comes from an old fortune-telling tradition from the 1800’s, a rhyming prediction of a newborn’s future.
If you want to play and don’t know the day of the week you were born, the internet will tell you. Then you get to decide how much of this you believe.
In this house we have one “far to go,” one “loving and giving” and a “must work for a living.” That last one is me. I’m a Saturday.
Looks like you Mondays and Sundays get the best deal here. I’m not sure in today’s world how far “fair of face” or “bonny and blithe” will get you, but it seems like a good start.
When I check birth dates for people who are squandering their perfectly lovely predictions, I have to wonder if this poem knows what it’s doing, but that could just be my day-of-the-week envy talking.
******
