Royal Baby

 

This post is slightly late, but I felt that following my posts about the Royal Wedding, in 2011, it was only right that I should write a brief post about the Royal Baby. Be prepared for both cynicism and a strange mix of opinions throughout"!

As was my initial opinion about the wedding, I was never overly bothered about the birth of Katherine and William’s baby. Yes, he will one day be the King of England, but that will undoubtedly be beyond my lifetime. Besides, there are already mixed views about the role of the Royal family; nowadays they are more of a figurehead than anything. Rumour has it, that ‘The Queen and Prince Charles must be asked for consent before our elected parliament is able to debate any legislation that affects their private interests’, I say rumour, simply because I am not going to lie about my knowledge of the law and wouldn’t want to pretend something was “truer” or “falser” than it is. Anyway, even if this is the case, the government does still have overall power over the things which take place in the country.

It’s not simply the politics that irritate, I find it daft that the news companies have been reporting on other babies born on the same day; on average 2,000 children are born everyday and having the same birthday changes nothing about the lifestyle a child will lead, thus rendering the interview with Mr and Mrs Bloggs somewhat redundant until they are looking for something which they believe will make their child seem like a better human being than the others in his class. I can just visualise that now, “My little angel would never have answered back in class…he was born the same day as Kate and Will’s baby, don’t you know…”

Nonetheless, I am once again surprised by how excited I eventually became by the situation. Sitting in a pub on the Tuesday after the announcement took place, I realised I wasn’t the only person who had been struck by the excitement. All of the televisions were showing constant footage of the doors to St Mary’s hospital…doors which remained closed for several hours, surrounded by press, whilst people camped on the doorstep with gifts to pass on to the new born (I shan’t go into my disgust at the stupidity of people who bought presents which will never get to the baby, and which I can only pray go to deserving children in orphanages etc). When the doors finally opened, though, the pub televisions were turned up, and everybody in the room (including the builder types) all less out a mass “aww”. I find it quite lovely (although equally quite ridiculous) how people all bond over someone who actually is not really any business of anybody’s other than the family surrounding it. Of course, when he is old enough, Baby Prince George will be of huge importance to the country, but until then I will just join the others in cooing over pictures of a child (which let’s face it, looks like any other child at the age of 2 weeks) and let his parents get on with raising him to be a decent human-being.