I May Need to Relocate to the Moon

Y’all ready for this?

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’ll remember me and herald me as an oracle of sorts. It wouldn’t be out of the question to erect a bust of me in the busiest district of your city. I’d be happy to cut the ribbon, of course.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock (and believe me, I’ve tried) the royals have brought a new bloodsucker into the world. Another do-nothing, self-entitled drain on our economy (and my sanity) will soon be suckling on the teat of his mother, and then everybody else after that.

Now, the aggravating part won’t necessarily be the mooching, bloodsucking or even the suckling. It will be the fact that the baby is going to be shoved IN OUR FACES at every possible opportunity. It has already happened with the birth itself. Deaths in China? Egypt in revolt? Boats sinking en route to a country not tearing itself apart? Nope, relegated to pages 6 onwards of the newspaper. Pages 1 to 5 have been allocated to the baby. I inadvertently came across an ‘article’ yesterday that spoke of whatsherface’s ‘extraordinary’ effort. Nope, it wasn’t the birth itself. It was her choice of dress, and how it was a ‘sentimental nod’ to Diana. UMM WHAT? I think we need to regroup as a people and collectively agree on the meaning of ‘extraordinary’. Here, I’ll help us all along – it is something that is EXTRA…ORDINARY.

Oh God, you know how your friends have a baby and then post pictures of their little bundle of joy on Facebook every day? That’s fine, but what irks me the most is when I am informed of how the baby is 13 weeks old, then 16 weeks old etc. Umm, that’s NOT a thing. It’s a point in time between a thing and another thing. Here, some more assistance. Birth = a thing (celebrate). 1 year old = a thing (celebrate). 16 weeks = not a thing! Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to sound grinchy here. I’m not a parent yet, and time will tell whether I will post pictures of my kids at 16 weeks. I’d like to think that instead of posting pictures, I’ll be spending time with my kid, teaching them how to fish. While I’m at it, I’ll teach myself how to fish. Come to think of it, 16 weeks may be too early for fishing. This is probably why I am not yet a parent.

My point is – if you think that’s bad, just wait and see how the royal baby’s progress is relayed to us. At least with Facebook I need to log in, or turn my phone on. This royal baby’s 16th week, 18.5th week, 85th poop, first contemplative stare, first handout etc will be broadcast in our faces EVERY DAY. You won’t escape it.

The worst thing is that this isn’t Facebook. It’s life; and there’s no option to filter the monarchy or hide ‘posts’ from bloodsuckers. I may need to move to the moon. Knowing my luck, the ‘Daily Moon’ will keep me posted on the suckling etc.

Sir Rantsalot

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