Today is Prince George’s third birthday, and as is tradish, Kensington Palace released new portraits of his squashy little noodle face. (When will he be too old for me to call him a squashy little noodle? I am MUCH older than he is, so… doing some math… carry the four… add in the nuclear weight of uranium… I see I’ve got a few years left.) Please squee with me:
There is a subset of people who have been concerned that Lupo was, like, SECRETLY DEAD or chained up in the attic or whatever, and this photo is an EXTREMELY CUTE proof of life. George is like, “PLEASE EAT THIS ICE CREAM NOW LUPO. RIGHT NOW, PLEASE. IT’S A TEA PARTY, YOU ARE REQUIRED TO EAT THIS DELICIOUS BISCUIT IMMEDIATELY THANK YOU VERY VERY MUCH.”
a) The swing was apparently a wedding gift and (b) I imagine Kate screeching (in the loving manner of most mothers and many neurotic aunties such as myself), “Okay, now remember you’re not allowed to stand up on that normally, okay?” and George being like, “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT MUMMY, TERRIBLY BUSY, I HAVE TO DASH NOW. GOOD-BYE!” Obviously, the massive amounts of Breton stripes in these photos feels like a coded message to me and that message is, “Prince Harry is still single.”
Does anyone know where an adult woman can get this striped whale sweater for herself? Asking for a friend. (Fine. Asking for me. ME IS THE FRIEND.)
(Also, in case you’re in the mood, you are welcome to peruse our entire Prince George archive. It’s FULL of muffin cheeks and baby thighs and IMPERIOUS CAPITAL LETTERS.)
