The Royals are a Royal Pain

Attention NYC and DC: The Royals are coming, the royals are coming….

Not all the Royals, of course! Only Prince William and his pregnant spouse, Kate. Is she Lady Kate, Dame Kate, Her Highness Kate or just Plain Kate? Too bad Joan Rivers isn’t here, lying in wait to pounce on Kate for something, anything. Outside of that siege of first trimester nausea, the sainted Kate hasn’t voiced a complaint since her engagement party at Windsor when she whispered to William that she didn’t mind all the comparisons to Lady Di, but did he also have to add a double-fisted thumbs up?

I’m not anti blue bloods or an elitist hater or anything, but I confess, I liked Britain’s Royals a whole lot more when they were objects of ridicule. Remember when we all had such fun despising Charles and Camilla? Now the pair seem to have evaporated into that rarefied air in which they like to thrive. And Diana. Back in the 1990s she couldn’t do anything right. Either she was getting caught by the paparazzi sunbathing in the nude on some lonely, lavishly decorated yacht in the Mediterranean or she was dissing Charles and blubbering on Fergie’s shoulder.

Now, you’d be hard pressed to badmouth a Royal what with Perfect Kate and her madonna child, what’s his name. To paraphrase the late, great Rodney Dangerfield, next to the word “adorable” in the dictionary is a photo of Kate and William in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. Those two are going to give marriage a good name and they aren’t half trying.

Part of the problem is they look so damn attractive, she with those dark luxuriant, silky tresses blowing in the wind; a milky complexion that has never seen sunblock; and a sylph like figure with dimples in her calves; and he with that golden thatch of naturally curly hair and polo perfect physique. Then there is the steady stream of designer fashions they keep flaunting as they flit from Ascot to Scotland Yard to Bhopal, India and so on. I, for one, have never seen Kate duplicate an outfit. She’s either got a really good memory or recycling hasn’t hit the monarchy yet.

Thank God for the Queen. At least we still have her to josh about. But Elizabeth is getting on in years and once she topples, well there won’t be anything to chuckle about. Goodbye dull, cookie-cutter clothes, hello Kate in a Prada everything.

We can only hope that the child Kate is now carrying turns out to be a girl. Then there’s a good chance she might have buck teeth or acne, possibly even an ingrown toenail or two. Naaaaaaaaaaaa!

Of course we could all pray that Kate and William commit a few gaffes on this highly touted First American Tour. Maybe Kate could curtsey to Beyonce and beg the Diva to sign her name on Kate’s royal bump. Or maybe William could slip and fall on his way in to the White House. Yes that could work. All the cable and network channels could run a slow-motion clip of William flopping around like a newly-caught fish and commentators from both sides of the Atlantic could offer theories as to why His Royal Highness lost his balance, what or who he was thinking of at the time and whether he planned to sue Obama or, better yet, Congress.

It sounds good to me. What about you?