It's You Babe.
When I woke up and saw the unbelievable fuss in our newspapers over Kate Middleton’s pregnancy I almost took myself off to A&E with dizziness and morning sickness myself.
After throwing up in solidarity (that’s what I call my bathroom) I realised it’s not her fault that journalists seem to be going mad about the fact her ovaries work. But I’ve a feeling we’ll all be mightily fed up before very long and it will seem like the gestation of a long overdue elephant.
I like to think that Prince Harry sent the Royal couple a message on Twitter saying “How KT doin bro? #who’sthedaddy” That would make him think, eh?
The Australian radio presenters who rang the hospital pretending to be The Queen and Prince Charles triggered the truly awful ending of a nurse’s life, an innocent who felt humiliated and ridiculed, and they deserve everything that’s coming to them; not because of the prank call which was fair enough, if a bit childish, but because of their boasting and preening after issuing a apology that was obviously not at all meant.
An impending new birth is usually good news for the parents and family who forget that this has been going on for centuries and isn’t really a big deal. Cavemen and women coped without NCT classes and midwife visits. Somehow they didn’t need the latest buggies and sterilising equipment or putting nice round plastic corners on any sharp rock in their cave’s playroom. And spelling bricks were probably made of real stone, not hypoallergenic, lead paint free plastic. People have babies. Get over it.
Am I a bit of a grump? Well, probably, but there’s a reason. I remember when we told our family that we were expecting our first baby they were happy, of course, if amazed that Debbie had let me near her, so it gave me a false sense of how everyone else felt about it. But telling strangers, and even some friends our good news, suddenly made me the most boring person on the planet. Roads had to be resurfaced as hordes of people crossed the street to avoid me. Even the Foreign Office told tourists to go near me only if their journey was absolutely necessary, and the Police advised approaching me with caution. I soon learned.
The problem is that no one cares a jot about a pregnancy that’s not theirs – despite what the Daily Mail might think. We have far more worrying things to think about than whether Kate will have a waterbirth or hire a wet nurse. After all, the worlds is about to end so she may not have to worry.
According to the Mayan calendar the world will cease to be on December 22nd, It will be an ex world, a former planet, a globe that has joined the celestial choir at the pearly gates buying the Daily Mail to see the latest on angel baby grows and whether the heat from the bad fire below might be stifling our young.
So Kate, enjoy the pregnancy while the world lasts, but forgive me if I don’t give a monkey’s.
Mind you, having the world end does have one upside. We’ll all save a fortune on Christmas presents.