I visualise someone with a particularly evil sense of humour hovering over earth, deciding which child should be placed with which mother.
"This woman is particularly squeamish. Let's send her John. He's rather partial to producing works of art using his own poo. This should be good for a laugh, watching her trying to clean it up just as her mother-in-law drops in unannounced. I can just hear the screams now!"
"And this one has the organisational skills of a dead gnat. Let's send her Matthew. He likes his life to be run with military precision. Every day will be like boot camp. And for that added twist, let's make sure that every appointment she makes to see a medical professional gets cancelled at the last minute. It should be fun watching her trying to explain that one to Matthew while he's screaming the house down."
"Aha! Now I notice that this particular young woman needs at least 8 hours sleep to get through the day. She never gets up before 11am on weekends. Why don't we send her Simon? He only needs 4 hours sleep a day and requires constant supervision when he's awake. For that extra 'something' why don't we surround her with lots of passers-by and relatives who will tell her how their own little darling has slept through the night from birth. The relatives can also add that she just needs to organise herself better."
His assistant asks tentatively, "Aren't you forgetting something, sir?"
"Oh yes! Send them all a free mirror so that they can see their stress-induced wrinkles and those rather attractive bags under their eyes."