Now THAT’S what I’m talking about. Sure, I appreciate your Meryl Streeps, your Madonnas, even your Shia LaBeoufs railing against Donald Trump. But I’ll be honest with you, that is not what I come to celebrities for. I have never denied being as shallow as a puddle, so what I want from celebrities is escapism – escape from the dumpster fire that is reality. And, given that 2017 is a full-on sewage works explosion of reality, any celebrity escapism needed to be supersized: enter, stage right, Beyoncé, announcing on Instagram that she is pregnant. With twins. In her underwear. Thank you, Queen Bey. Thank you for coming to save us from ourselves.

Some people will be mean about this photo. That is because some people have no soul. OK, sure, it answers the question of what a David LaChapelle filter on Instagram would look like (“Rizzoli meets Snapchat” is how my friend Jess put it). But have you looked outside? It’s basically an apocalyptic wasteland out there. Naturalism is not helpful right now – we need extreme fabulousness, and Beyoncé kneeling in front of a floral wreath in a veil and her lingerie is pretty much the minimum requirement to get through the next five minutes. Look, I’m just grateful she didn’t do what every Z-lister has done at this point, which is roll out the homage to the famous 1991 Demi Moore pose, with a soulful cradle of her belly. And let’s be even more grateful she didn’t just post an ultrasound image. As if Bey would ever be so basic.

But the real issue here is the twins – ah, the twins! Double the Knowles-Carter legacy! Now, it’s rather sweet that so many people seem to be so excited about this because, the truth is, half of the entertainment world has twins. J-Lo, Mariah, Celine, Angelina, SJP, Julia Roberts, Zoe Saldana: twins are the new adopted African child, the offspring that suggests alpha motherhood. And I heartily endorse this trend, given that I have twins, meaning I am now officially EXACTLY like Beyoncé, which has always been obvious to me, if not to anyone who has ever met me, looked at me, heard me sing or seen me dance. But it’s rather comforting to think that, while I cannot imagine a single second of what Beyoncé’s real life is like, I do now have something of a glimpse into her current state of mind, which goes a little something like this: “Oh god, oh god, will I be able to even walk in six months? Should I get a side by side double buggy or back to front one? How the hell do you breastfeed twins? How many bottles will we need? Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

Beyoncé, sweetheart. Allow me to strike a superior tone with you for the only time in my life: you’ll be fine. Twins are great. I mean, you won’t sleep for a year, but maybe you don’t sleep anyway? Congratulations, and thank you for bringing this one ray of joy into 2017. And finally, get a front to back double buggy – it’s a right bugger getting those side by side ones on the bus.