I CAN'T bear that man. I mean, he's so awful, he really is.

But whatever I may think about Prince Charles, it seems some people are feeling a bit sorry for the poor old chap right now. And, indeed, these must be trying times for our future king.

After all, Charles did bravely swallow the bitter pill of posing for "these bloody people" on the piste at Klosters, possibly for as long as 30 minutes, and he must have felt he was entitled to a peaceful stag week swanning about the Alps with his sons as his flunkies smoothed the way for the wedding of the year.

Then what do you know? Some turbulent priest upstages him, he has to put things off for a day, and the nuptials will now clash with the Grand National. I don't believe it!

It's just as well grannie's not around to see such times. They would have to ban her from nipping down to William Hill to stick on a fiver each way, and confiscate her radio to stop her from tuning into Aintree during the speeches.

Like myself, Charles may be living proof of my mother's dark threat: "Pull your face for long enough and it'll stay like that."

But even I'll concede he's had some reason to be a sourpuss since February 10, when newspaper leaks forced him to confirm he was finally tying the knot with Mrs Parker-Bowles.

The Daily Mail, famous for its core values of compassion and empathy, has now rushed to chronicle what it terms Charles's Diary of Disaster, listing on a "parchment scroll" the woes that have attended the happy couple since they first named the day.

And the writers didn't even mention having to say sorry to Camilla's first husband for nicking the mother of his children.

Instead, they focused on the legal and constitutional blunders that were dogging the marriage plans and forcing the future Princess Consort to plight her troth in a register office near Slough.

It's ironic to think the whole reason the Church of England was established was because Catholicism was getting in the way of a regal English love match back in the 1530s.

Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold... and just to rub Charlie's nose in it, let's make him go to the funeral, too.

There is a way out of all this dreariness for the Prince of Wales. He could follow the example of his great-uncle and choose a quiet, Victor Meldrew existence instead of a coronation.

He could spend the rest of his life hugging trees, bitching about office blocks and churning out overpriced biscuits to his heart's content, without having to kowtow to walkabouts and photo-calls for the likes of us.

I can't think why he doesn't do it. I mean, I wouldn't dream for a second of suggesting Charles is longing for the limelight of monarchy, just as I'd never say his equine nose first went out of joint when the public started taking more notice of his lovely first wife than they did of him.

Some people have argued Charles so wants to be king because he's never had a proper job and he's impatient for the role he's been trained for since he first drew breath.

But if duty really is what's calling him, he should take a leaf out of his mother's book and learn how to shoulder it with grace.

Updated: 09:10 Wednesday, April 06, 2005