A mother is tucking in her daughter and kissing her goodnight.
Mummy, what day of the week was I born?
It’s getting late, dear. It’s time to go to sleep.
Don’t you know what day I was born?
Of course I do. But if I tell you, you have to promise to go to sleep.
Daughter is excited.
This is the rhyme that my own mother told me, and now I will tell it to you.
Daughter looks up at mother in excited anticipation.
Monday’s child looks good in a hat
Tuesday’s child is a bit of a twat
Wednesday’s child is very conscientious
Thursday’s child is rather pretentious
Friday’s child speaks before he thinks
Saturday’s child is anyone’s after a few drinks
But the child that was born on the Sabbath day
Will fall asleep now
So I can have some chardonnay
Mother turns off the light on her daughter’s puzzled expression.