We are a couple of days apart only age-wise; Roz Chast did a cartoon in the New Yorker they called "A Nursery Rhyme from the American Psychiatric Society" I went looking for just now (Sept. 18, 2000, the back page, in the NYer archive):

"Monday's kid is passive-aggressive,
Tuesday's kid is compulsive-obsessive,
Wednesday's kid is hypochondriacal,
Thursdays kid is just plain maniacal.
Friday's kid is anal-retentive.
Saturday's kid is too non-attentive.
But the kid who's born on the Sabbath day -
defies diagnosis in every way."

They post the original in the poem in the description about the cartoon:
[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 his living/ And the child that is born on the Sabbath day/ Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.]

I'll post the graphic on the shared FB page.

Imagine trying to live up to the hype of a nursery rhyme. It describes the stages of all of our lives. (That said, I suspect all of us, looking back at photos of ourselves years or decades ago must ask "I looked ok - what was I complaining about back then?)

Waiting on the mail carrier today to pick up another eBay box, as I slowly move that colorful glassware out of the house. It's an overcast day and I'm going out in a few minutes to do some trimming and mowing. Just a typical Friday. Not doing anything this weekend (Memorial Day was a holiday weekend I always dreaded as a park ranger - it's when the crowds descended on our parks, and they went from peaceful places to zoos of hot fussy people.)