The circumstances are appropriate for admission. It is a delightful August day in Montecito, in a wonderful living room, in a lovely home.
Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor, a vivacious 3-year-old with a shock of ginger twists indistinguishable from his dad's, meanders into the room requesting "Momma" pay attention to his pulse with a wooden toy stethoscope.
He stands, stomach jutting, while his mom, Meghan, convincingly plays out her happiness at hearing the bang pound, pound in his chest. Archie chuckles and, fulfilled, once more, meanders right back out.
Meghan, loosening up in a comfortable seat, looks over all that is environment controlled and high-ceilinged and sun-dappled and impeccably marshmallowy, and hers.
This might have been a savage: Delivering a nothing with such gravitas feels as though Meghan, who has been so savaged by the media, is serving it back, only a tad.
As herself, she'd amassed 3 million Instagram devotees by sharing bits of an essential life: yoga, food she preferred, climbs with companions, her beagle, Guy.
Fans looked as she went to occasions with her Suits castmates and good cause celebrations, evenings out at Soho House in London and Toronto.
the U.K. media pool, she makes sense of. Generally, the photographs would be on news sources before she could post them herself.