Wednesday, 30 December 2009

Franco-American time

As I sit here drinking my tea - warm for once - I'm thinking about time.

This morning Suzanne was trying to sing the days of the week song I taught her. Lily, my preschool teacher, taught it to me when I was about her age. "Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday. 7 Days of the week. There are. 7 DAys of the week..." etc.

Suzanne just couldn't get it right. And I could here her going, "awww" from the other room and starting over trying to get it. The rythm was wrong or the beat was wrong...something was wrong.

Then I realized. She was singing "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday...." not "Sunday Monday Tuesday..." The French week begins on Monday but the American week begins on Sunday. So of course I'm wondering - WHY?

Is it because God rested on Saturday so Sunday is the first day of the week? That only works if you're Jewish or a 7th day Adventist, right? The Founding Fathers and the Queen are all Christians or one sort or another and France is Catholic so...maybe since Sunday was the day God rested, Monday was the beginning. Or maybe it's because the French prefer to take advantage of the whole weekend so Saturday and Sunday are always packaged together. Whereas Americans don't really have a weekend since we're working all the time.

And it could explain why my husband is confused when he looks at the Bates College calendar I have on the fridge. The second day of the week is "M" so if he looks quickly he may think it's an "M" for Mardi and not Monday.

And maybe, just maybe it explains why I never know what day it is in the first place....or maybe that's just denial that I'm getting older.

Any theories out there?

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hmmm, interesting. I never know what day of the week it is either. Nor can I tell time properly and I am way too old to have an excuse for that. Still makes my Dad laugh to ask me what time and watch me study the clock! I like to think it is because I don't really care what day of the week it is, or what time it is, or even how old I am (because, yes, I have to stop and think about that one too...)

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