There was much made in the national papers about baby Prince George’s first foreign trip abroad.
The one particular story I read was just lazy journalism, I’m pretty sure the person who wrote it wasn’t even privy to the trip and just rolled out a load of cheesy clichés.
Apparently George wriggled in his mother’s arms.
That’s what babies do, they wriggle. I’m sure there’d be questions if the eventual heir to the throne resembled a doll someone had just picked up from Toys R Us.
He also ‘kicked his legs with glee’ as the Duchess of Cambridge carried him off the aeroplane. With glee, I tell you!
He couldn’t wait until they finally reached the pool and he could put his feet up after a hard six months of life and catch some rays on the sun lounger, then maybe later on he could take some liberties with the all-inclusive free bar.
He could have been taking a tour of the local recycling centre and he wouldn’t have known any differently.
George had apparently behaved perfectly throughout the journey.
What was he supposed to do? Get stuck into the drinks trolley, leer at the stewardesses and start a fight with the peasants in economy class?
Poor old George didn’t even have his nanny with him during the holiday to the Caribbean island of St Lucia.
According to the article, George’s family had all offered to rally round to help look after him.
Was there some sort of family meeting that the journalist was invited to where they all discussed action plans of who would do night feeds and what happened if they ran out of Pampers if his stomach didn’t take too kindly to the local cuisine.
Who rallies around a six-month-old? It’s not like we’re talking about a single mum with three kids – each with a wild case of ADHD – off to Bunn Leisure with the grandparents reluctantly agreeing to help out for the week.
Most amazingly of all, baby George ‘had grown since his last public appearance.’
Well I never, there’s me thinking he might have shrunk. I really can’t wait for the next instalment.