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 has to work for a living,
But a child that's been born on the Sabbath day
Is fair and wise and good and gay.
---Sunday, 6:57 am---
Calvin woke up and got straight out of bed. Hmm. Sunday. Yawning, he walked over to the window and
looked out. From his room, he could see a throng of church-goers on their way to the early mass at
St. Francis parish. He couldn't help but smile at the old ladies down there, tripping over high
heels and fussing with feathered hats. Looking back at the clock, he was glad he was a morning
person.
He got out of his room and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Heh, today was a french toast day
if ever there was one. For one thing, he had plenty of time. Moe wouldn't get up for another hour.
They'd only been seeing each other for a few days now, and already they'd moved in together. Of
course, they'd know each other all their lives, but really, it didn't count until they made it
official. Still, nothing really changed. Moe had always spent alot of time there anyway.
Calvin was kind of dreading work tomorrow. He'd always loved being a psychologist. Helping people
was nice of course, but it just made him feel so great that people would turn to him for help for
once. Still, if he had his choice, he'd be on the couch watching TV or maybe catching up on his
reading.
His whole life had been like this, come to think of it... Loving the present and fearing the
future. It was an interesting point, really. Brought up some rather Skinner-like ideas about human
nature. After all, If every past experience that he'd cowered before had yielded positive results,
there had to be some reason he was still afraid, right? Probably something to do with his
childhood. He couldn't help but smile when he thought this. Oh, yes, childhood. And parenting. Oh,
and the quest to return to a less stressful period. No psychotherapist could resist phrases like
that. Gods, too. Calvin never really trusted the things, always interweaving with each other and
contradicting themselves. You could really screw up a person with mixed messages. Still, they had
to have been useful for something, right? Otherwise no one would have invented them...
And Hobbes, sitting contently in a box in the bedroom closet, reflected that he always did make
his best friend's future seem easier to bear.
A/N: Well, that's it. If you liked it, please let me know. If you didn't, flame me hard. I don't
like to make the same mistake twice.
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 has to work for a living,
But a child that's been born on the Sabbath day
Is fair and wise and good and gay.
---Sunday, 6:57 am---
Calvin woke up and got straight out of bed. Hmm. Sunday. Yawning, he walked over to the window and
looked out. From his room, he could see a throng of church-goers on their way to the early mass at
St. Francis parish. He couldn't help but smile at the old ladies down there, tripping over high
heels and fussing with feathered hats. Looking back at the clock, he was glad he was a morning
person.
He got out of his room and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Heh, today was a french toast day
if ever there was one. For one thing, he had plenty of time. Moe wouldn't get up for another hour.
They'd only been seeing each other for a few days now, and already they'd moved in together. Of
course, they'd know each other all their lives, but really, it didn't count until they made it
official. Still, nothing really changed. Moe had always spent alot of time there anyway.
Calvin was kind of dreading work tomorrow. He'd always loved being a psychologist. Helping people
was nice of course, but it just made him feel so great that people would turn to him for help for
once. Still, if he had his choice, he'd be on the couch watching TV or maybe catching up on his
reading.
His whole life had been like this, come to think of it... Loving the present and fearing the
future. It was an interesting point, really. Brought up some rather Skinner-like ideas about human
nature. After all, If every past experience that he'd cowered before had yielded positive results,
there had to be some reason he was still afraid, right? Probably something to do with his
childhood. He couldn't help but smile when he thought this. Oh, yes, childhood. And parenting. Oh,
and the quest to return to a less stressful period. No psychotherapist could resist phrases like
that. Gods, too. Calvin never really trusted the things, always interweaving with each other and
contradicting themselves. You could really screw up a person with mixed messages. Still, they had
to have been useful for something, right? Otherwise no one would have invented them...
And Hobbes, sitting contently in a box in the bedroom closet, reflected that he always did make
his best friend's future seem easier to bear.
A/N: Well, that's it. If you liked it, please let me know. If you didn't, flame me hard. I don't
like to make the same mistake twice.
