Tuesday
By
Hossam Badrawi
Have you heard of the “Three Days of the Week” theory for birth order in families?
It’s a popular notion—no PhD required—but one confirmed by thousands of households and countless funny stories and family squabbles told over breakfast, lunch, and even at funerals.
They say:
The first child is Saturday—the day of ambitious beginnings, fresh notebooks, neatly ironed school uniforms, and pristine intentions.
He’s treated like the firstborn of newlyweds: the parenting books are opened for him, and the kitchen and TV remote are off-limits.
He’s the experiment, the first lab rat, the victim of “parental ambition.”
The youngest child is Thursday—soft, pampered, preceded by the smell of delicious food and ice cream, followed by cheerful “Welcome” songs.
Everything is allowed… because he came late, after discipline rules had been exhausted and punishments had turned into “Oh sweetheart, never mind, just don’t do it again.”
He’s the product of “parental nostalgia.”
But the middle child… is Tuesday.
What can we say about this poor day?
It’s neither a beginning nor an ending. No fresh agendas, no holiday in sight.
It comes after the “wake-up from Saturday’s illusion” and before the “dream of Thursday.”
It’s the day mentioned only when searching for the least inspiring one.
If you are Tuesday in our family… what a fate!
You’re neither “the first on whom dreams were hung” nor “the last carried asleep on shoulders without waking.”
You’re the one forgotten at the club, missing from family photos, always asked:
“Did you do your homework?”
—when you’ve already graduated from university.
You’ll grow up without a solo photo in the living room.
All the pictures are either of “the big boss” or “the baby who turned our lives into paradise.”
And you? You’re either blurred in the background or half-cropped out.
You’ll be the first to wear the hand-me-downs from the one before you,
and the first to be blamed when something breaks:
“It must have been you, because the eldest is responsible and the youngest is still innocent!”
And yet, you should love being Tuesday.
Yes, it’s a dull day—but it has room for peace.
No one expects great achievements from you, and no holiday burdens you—yet you’ll often achieve them regardless.
It’s the day of simplicity, stability, and keeping a low profile—so you get what you want without the fuss.
You’re the Tuesday child,
and while you don’t sing on stage like Thursday,
nor address the crowds like Saturday,
you quietly carry the world on your shoulders… and no one notices.
I was born on September 1, 1951—a Saturday—but in birth order, I’m Thursday, because I’m the youngest. So, I’m the lucky one in the family.
Who are you in your family???
