Well done, not-so-waity Katie! The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are expecting a baby. Nation – and post-Olympic, post-jubilee idling manufacturers of gilded memorabilia mugs everywhere – rejoice! Young women of Berkshire – rejoice slightly more subduedly. Babies are now In, with a capital, becoroneted I (or possibly We), but while they are easier to source than last season's Reiss, they do represent a slightly bigger lifestyle change. And the delivery charges sting more.
Oh, imagine the joy and bustle in the royal and Middleton households! There's Carole, designing babygros with "Grandma's work here is done" on the front and the Party Pieces logo on the back. Pippa's drafting her latest cash-in volume. "Babies are an excellent way of continuing the family line. Most babies are boys or girls. It is best to have a baby with a head, ideally firmly attached to its neck. It is best to buy lots of nappies at once, otherwise you will have to go to the supermarket eight times a day. At night, put the baby in a moses basket or cot. Do not leave it on a ledge or near a spike. That is how accidents happen!"
Meanwhile, everyone in Buck House is breaking out the good stationery, moistening nibs and penning congratulatory notes.
"Nice one, bro! Laters, Harry."
"Regina vagina! All superbest wishes, Camilla."
"I say, jolly well done, old chap. Love, His Royal Highness Prince Daddy Charles."
"Soz about the first note – bit pissed. Luv 'Milla xx"
"Dear William and Kate. Ignore the EU. I own this gaff and what I say goes. And do you know what I say? I say it's primogeniture till the last trump sounds. TTFN. Grandma."
"She's what? She's daggers? Up the fluff? You're making no sense, man, have you gone mad? Speak up! Oh, I see. Well, yuck, keep me out of it till the little bugger's gone to school. Don't even like me own that much. Phil."
In the newspaper offices, headline writers are scrambling:
The Sun: Now it's Kate Middle-TUM!
The Telegraph: Duke and Duchess of Cambridge are… well, you know, umm, yes.
Mail – Kate's Pregnant! News Gives Republicans Cancer. House Prices Double Overnight.
Guardian – Parasites Breed Parasite – Democracy Doomed.
It is all too, too exciting!
Now, I am not royal but I am A Mother and I see from Article 2,347 subsection (3b) (iv) of the Female Newspaper Columnist's Charter that this both entitles and commands me to proffer all the unparalleled wisdom and insight I alone have been vouchsafed since doing something more than 130 million women do each year. So:
1. Buy – or in your case, maybe have handwoven in organic cotton by underemployed Poundbury dwellers – a lot of muslin squares.
2. Shop around for a new pelvic floor – I think Peter Jones does them – and forget about laughing or sneezing in public till it's fitted.
3. Liquidate a few assets – a couple of castles or one of the richer duchies – and start bribing people to tell you about any drugs deemed too good for the plebs. Take them from 35 weeks.
4. Forget coal and chocolate. You can afford more exotic cravings. Start needing furs, armoires full of gold sovereigns, daily visits from Jon Hamm. An island. Two, if it's twins.
5. Don't look down.
