Plea to the Royal Baby

The UK is currently on hyper alert for the news. There have been paparazzi camped outside the Lindo Wing of St Mary's Hospital, London for days. Even the Queen would "very much like it to arrive". And so we wait...

Frankly, I'm getting impatient.

Ever since the nation found out that Will & Kate were pregnant we have been guessing, betting on, hoping for, preparing and stalking the Duchess' progress. The bookies have made a fortune on the standard baby stats - name, date of birth, gender, weight, day of the week born. But they haven't stopped there. Fancy 4:1 odds on ginger hair like it's Uncle Harry? Or perhaps 33:1 on the prince or princess becoming a model? We are all going gaga and it's not even gurgled yet.

I am not a royalist, I can't stand Prince Charles and his conservative, pompous ways. Camilla grates on me and Princess Anne seems like she's made of cardboard she's so stiff upper lip. But Will and Kate have won us over. They have a normality and we relate to them. Despite her upper class upbringing, Kate is the girl next door who married a prince and for that we like her. So their baby news was welcomed by [almost] all - I'm not sure my parents will ever warm to the royal family. Last weekend I expressed my frustration and impatience about "the birth" and my Dad asked who's birth. "The Royal Baby!", didn't help him. He couldn't remember Kate's name and thought Prince William had married a woman called Sarah. I digress...

I refresh the BBC News app far too frequently. I open Twitter on my phone and then panic that I'll see the news on there first and have to check BBC News again first to be sure. IT'S TAKING OVER MY LIFE. So please, little squishy, wrinkly prince or princess-to-be, I know it's warm in there but hurry up and make your entrance so that we can all have a party and then, more importantly, MOVE ON WITH OUR LIVES!

Thank you. JAM.

p.s. I'm sorry in advance if you have your grandfather's ears. There are surgical options out there.

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