This morning, I woke up to a baby bump.
No, not my baby bump (Whew!).
Kate Middleton's baby bump.
This is big news. On Today, the anchors were so excited to announce that the Duchess of Cambridge was finally "revealing" her baby bump and a "fuller face." Now I have never been pregnant, but I have a basic enough grasp of biology to know that women don't really have much control over "revealing" their pregnancies.
On E! Online, Kate's "side-bump" was not only a top story this morning, it was also labeled as "Most Read." I probably contributed to this statistic - for research purposes only, of course.
Two summers ago, while touring Buckingham Palace, I found myself in a room overrun with tourists buzzing excitedly around a glass case displaying none other than Kate Middleton's wedding dress. I felt like I had stepped into the royal version of The Twilight Zone.
I have come to terms with the fact that, even back in the States, I cannot escape this Royal Twilight Zone. In the past several weeks, I have been inundated with reports of Kate's horrific morning sickness and the fear that she may be getting dangerously underweight. Then the media started commenting on how Middleton has been "laying low." Ummm . . . maybe because she has been throwing up her guts?
Now three months into her pregnancy, the tabloids have finally caught up with her, shopping for workout clothes, sporting a supposed "baby bump."
I just don't see a baby bump. If I were wearing a cape like that, I would look pregnant too (maybe even more so). And it seems awfully gauche to refer to a royal's (almost non-existent) pregnant stomach as a "baby bump," doesn't it?
That led me to ask myself another question:
Why am I even paying attention to this?
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