You love not reading the news anymore. Because you can’t. Not properly anyway. Not in that broadsheet extended double page in-depth analysis with charts and extra voxpops way, anyway. Alright, you might scan the voxpops. But I mean, who really has the time for reading even one page of a broadsheet in full? Either somebody has a little too much time on their hands. Or they haven’t got kids.

Instead you find Metro‘s abbreviated semi-news heavy duty enough. Yes, that’s right, Metro, which you used to deride for its patronising drivel. You lap up ‘how to’ inserts. You even find yourself drawn towards all those flimsy shiny women’s mags you used to balk at. So trivial. So fluffy. So degrading to your intellect. But so easy to pick up and read between your little dearest squawking something about MUUUUUUUUUM WHERE’S THE ROUNDANDROUNDTHING MUUUUUUUMMMMM I’M TALKING MUUUUUUUUUM and CAN I WATCH TEEEEEEEVEEEEEEEEEEE and OOOWOOOWOOOOOOOOOW MUUUUUUUUUUM I GOT AN OWOOOOOW MUUUUUUM I NEED A PLASTER MUUUUUUUUUUM. The ultimate multitask read, you suddenly understand why the articles in these publications are so short and petty and frothy. And why they’re aimed at women with kids.

To be brutally honest, it’s a bit of a relief. Does anybody really like reading newspapers or is it just something you end up doing as you try your best to become a real adult, you know, as your ‘duty’, like writing thank you cards and putting the bins out. New mummies have the perfect excuse to avoid all that intellectual posturing. Of course there’s a place for proper news and intelligent reading. But knowing all the world’s bad news makes no difference to our daily lives, beyond injecting the reader with a sense of shame (to be part of the human race) and, well, hopeless despair. However, knowing that Kate Moss also has a jelly belly* can, sometimes, put the whole world to rights.

*uncorroborated at the time of writing