Although this is an office full of women - and Rupert, the intern - we are being determinedly unbroody as babymania reaches new heights. We remain hard-nosed and career-focused at all times. (Who’d go out with a PR girl? Apart from Prince Edward.)

All those visits to sperm donor websites that somehow got caught in our new Cameron-style porn filter are just coincidence. Anyhow, if regal sproggery is going to deliver the £243m boost to the economy suggested, absurdly, by the Telegraph, some of our clients need to get spending.

We’ve got some catching up to do if we’re going to jump on the exploitation (dressed up as good wishes) bandwagon. Only United Lard has stepped up to the plate so far, producing Union Jack labelled ‘Puppyfat’. This seems so wrong in so many ways that it could be a cult success. We’re doing our bit by launching a covert campaign to get it banned.

All we need is a bite from the Mail and we’re away. Still, at least we haven’t produced personalised packs. Rupert, in his one moment of insight, suggested the royal baby should be called Coke, thus saving Coca-Cola the expense of creating yet another named can when they deliver the inevitable case to Kensington Palace.

Anyway, on to the good news story of the week. There’s a broccoli glut and £20,000 worth has already been destroyed. This cheers us all up because we didn’t win the British Brassica Bureau account. We were apparently “too expensive”, but not by £20,000.

Karoline (with a K) is already drafting a letter to the chairman, pointing out where they went wrong.