The madness of future King George's birth live on the TV
Great minds think alike. A friend of mine named her baby 'George' recently – on the basis that he was conceived round the back of Asda.
I was a bit surprised to be honest. It really should have been Next.
And, as the royals move ever closer to their subjects, it would have been nice if Kate and Wills had come up with Harvey Nicholls Windsor.
Or at least closed their eyes and grabbed a random Coke bottle (Prince Zayn!) but you can't have everything.
Royal baby steps, I guess.
Been a big week for the Windsors though and for the broadcast media, chewing the carpet in desperation, waiting for something – anything – to happen while we awaited the arrival of yet another future king.
I stared at that door so long it felt like looking at one of those Magic Eye images while taking on gas and air.
It didn't help that it looked like something off Doctor Who and was most definitely unlike any hospital entrance round here.
Where were the smokers?
At least if Harry had visited, he could have popped out for a crafty fag, texted pals to sort out the post-birth drinks sesh and spread his 'name' bets.
Or at least tried it on with the nurses.
At that point, it would have qualified as great telly.
As it was, the TV?guys had nothing to go on – so started laying on filler faster than Kerry Katona.
And almost as thick.
The?BBC's official buzzkill correspondent Nicholas Witchell told us they would 'probably go for a traditional name'.
Welcome to the party Nick. We were expecting Wayne for a boy or Waynetta for a girl.
The waffle went on and on and on like this column most weeks. And I like to be consistent.
But just before my eyes glazed over and the second box of painkillers kicked in, I started to ponder why in these anchor-to-anchor TV chats do they never try to make things interesting in a Ron Burgundy kinda way?
"So Kay, while we wait for news, tell us exactly when, where and how do you think they made this baby?"
"Nicholas, isn't it right that Prince Charles hates your guts? Must be awkward, eh?"
"Do you think Pippa will bend over for the cameras when she arrives? Bill, can we get the odds?"
Instead, we feed on scraps, like when Sky guy Paul 'no relation' Harrison's phone rang while Kay Burley was kindly spewing more pap into my living room.
"Paul! Paul!" she squealed, "Your phone rang a moment ago. A tip?" "No" he coughed, "It was about PPI, telling me I'm eligible to claim £3,000."
Lol. Bad news for Burley – and Paul too, as that recorded message is probably not true.
Still, top hats off to the tourist who (now famously) quipped live to her mic that he'd heard the new prince was . . . 'a black boy'.
Boom. He gets a Comedy Award. She gets the mid morning slot on North Norfolk Digital, if there's any justice.
Thankfully, in newspaper land, we are able to work without providing a running commentary to readers.
(Just as well; the debate about whether it was right to call our souvenir on the birth a 'royal pull-out' was lively, I can tell you.)
But, finally, spare a thought for the person responsible for the official Guernsey Twitter feed which congratulated 'the Duchess of Cambridge and the Prince of Wales on the birth of their baby boy'.
Hold the front page!
