…is what Harry and Meghan’s sprog will be when the tiny one is born into British society.
I believe all Brits are somewhere in line for the throne, albeit a long, long way from the divine right to sit on it and dub* Knights, call oneself “one” and dispense with number plates on the family car.
*Don’t please tell me dubbing is done standing up, this meant to be serious.
Well, for a long time now I’ve experienced subtle but unmistakeable nudges around the small of my back, which I’ve come to interpret as signals from a higher realm that I should move forward a bit, as someone ahead of me in the line for the throne has vacated their position.
Does anyone else get this spooky but bracing intimation and does anyone know where one should go to find out how far up the list one might be?
Presumably someone keeps an eye on this, so one is not caught on the hop if and when the summons is imminent, so one can take elocution lessons, get a decent haircut and a grant to buy a new suit.