A few months ago, you will recall, Mrs. Judge Mental directed her advice at mothers-to-be. This time, we turn our attention to babies-to-be. Specifically, the expected progeny of Kate, Duchess of Cambridge, and that other guy, I forgot his name. Bill Something. He’s English.
Anyway, I have some words of wisdom for this baby, now gestating somewhere between 10 and 12 weeks, really too soon to understand what I am saying, so it’s up to you, readers, to hold down Kate and read this article to her baby bump. I hate that term. Ugh. Just yell in the general direction of her crotch.
Dear Diana Regina Elizabeth Alice Mary Prudence Gertrude Bram Stoker Jane Austen (I have a bet on Intrade that that’ll be your name):
When you’re the Queen of England in 50 years or so, can you do me a favor? Can you outlaw the word “preggers”?
So, you’re already world-famous before you’re even born. I read yesterday that while you were making your mom ralph – very unladylike of both of you – people were mobbing the hospital you were in. The pressure in there must be suffocating already.
You’re going to grow up lucky in a lot of ways: the best education, a guaranteed job when you’re done with school, fancy parties and fundraisers, but it’s kind of lonely at the top, and you might find it hard to make true friends. It’s going to be weird that so many strangers will know all about you. Your mom seems nice, and your dad can totally sympathize with growing up in the glare of paparazzi flashbulbs, so he’s probably your best bet when you start thinking of mooning the camera in retribution.
I guess your life won’t be weird to you; you’ll never know any different, so to you it will be totally normal to have servants and be chased by photographers and have your every move scrutinized by tabloids. Good luck with that. The press basically killed your grandmother trying to catch up to her in traffic, so be careful!
Ask your Uncle Harry about his little side trip to Vegas. Your great-grandmother was steamed!
Speaking of your great-grandmother, could you get me her autograph? See, you think people are your friends, and then they just want something from you, like your grandma’s autograph. On a check. Made out to Mrs. Judge Mental.
When you’re the Queen of England in 50 years or so, can you do me a favor? Can you outlaw the word “preggers”? I know you won’t have jurisdiction in America, but I was hoping you could use your influence to make positive changes in the world of colloquialisms, and as royalty, I am sure you will be totes against the shortening and cute-ification of words, obvs.
Second on your hit list should be the grocery store rags’ obsession with combining famous names into irritating portmanteau like TomKat/Brangelina/Bey-Z. Make sure when you start dating that your names don’t rhyme or anything. You should probably make people call you Di-Re-Al-MaP just to be safe.
While you’re fixing the world’s problems, maybe you can borrow the Doctor’s Tardis and go back in time and convince your cousin not to wear that flying spaghetti monster fascinator to your parents’ wedding? She took all the attention away from your aunt Pippa’s totally cute ass, I mean, dress.
Can you also fix time so that Guy Fieri was never born? Make Lindsay Lohan disappear? Maybe give Robert Pattinson a huge wart on his face? Force Downton Abbey to stop taking breaks between seasons? Make Beyonce name her baby something more normal, like Di-Re-Al-MaP?
I don’t expect you to fix every problem in the world for nothing. I am willing to pay you with the most valuable advice I can give a little girl who has 11 names and all the money in the world: Brush your teeth five times a day. Your family tree has some seriously effed-up grills in it.
Mrs. Judge Mental