GQ’s open letter to Baby Spears:

Dear Baby Spears,

Oh, baby, baby! Did you hit the lottery or what? How do you like those Gucci diapers? Whoa! And who knew Dior made a rhinestone pacifier? You’ve got it made, kid. Nobody on earth has a mommy and daddy like yours. What a dreamy life you’ll have: Breakfast at noon. Ice Cream for lunch. Lavish dinners at the Cheesecake Factory. Free Parliaments for life! In your private jet, you’ll zip off to Paris (in Vegas), Venice (in Vegas), and New York (in Vegas).

Mommy and Daddy are, like, mad psyched you’re here. Daddy’s already installed a baby seat in the H2 – with a special holder for your pimp cup! And he’s entered you guys in the Fresno Father-Child Break-Dancing Face-Off. And how neat is it to hear Mommy sing “I’m a Slave 4 U” as a lullaby? She’s also working on “Rock-a-Bye, Baby.” But first she’s got to fly to Sweden to iron out the remix.

And look at all your presents! You’re the only baby we know with a stuffed panda, a live panda, and a bodyguard named Panda. Mommy and Daddy’s friends gave you great gifts, too. Like that chinchilla Snugli? That’s from Auntie Paris. The platinum-plated diaper warmer? That’s from Uncle Diddy. And that eight-foot-tall Mapple Thorpe ****? That’s from Christina Aguilera.

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