Managing Editor Kelly Kazek

Sometimes when I have nothing else to worry about — like how to get the melted goo from the cherry cordial Hershey Kisses off the inside of my purse — I sit and wonder about other people’s troubles.

It just makes me feel better.

Like, do you think it’s difficult being the offspring of two genetically perfect people and know you will live your entire life on display for people who, whether they admit it or not, will begin to wish bad things for you, like, maybe you’ll fall on hard times and have to buy last season’s Prada from the sale rack?

You may not think this is an important issue but when you consider Shiloh Jolie-Pitt and Suri Cruise are the first of a new Master Species, well. It’s up to all of us to ensure they grow up right.

While many people would be hard pressed to use the words “poor little” in front of their names, I feel I must say, in all sincerity, bless their little gabillionaire hearts.

Already people are trying to pit these designer toddlers against each other.

Just last month, Us Magazine featured them on the cover side by side, showing Shiloh in a worn dress with what looked to be some gummed Nilla Wafer in her hair. Suri, on the other hand, was perfection from tip of her designer ’do to the toes of her unnaturally unscuffed shoes. She had her arms folded across her chest and her brow furrowed, as if listening to Daddy give a lesson on how to insult reporters who do not KNOW psychiatry like he does.

“Glib,” Daddy Cruise was likely telling her. “Guh-li-ib. You have to enunciate for full effect.”

The implication of the cover was that poor little Shiloh wears hand-me-downs without showing the least little bit of embarrassment that she has been photographed in public wearing a $450 Armani baby dress that Big Sis Zahara already wore to that one movie premiere. Suri, the cover implies, has never worn the same perfectly matched ensemble twice and can deflect dirt with one haughty look from her baby brown eyes.

Not one to discriminate in their insults, the editors at US also imply that, though at least free of the same playground grit that has been played in by the Common Children, Suri may be at a disadvantage to Shiloh because, well, Shiloh gets to act like a real kid and not a Tom Cruise experiment in creating Scientology’s perfect being (who, by the way, is apparently modeled after one of those dolls designed by Marie Osmond).

And while most don’t doubt Tom came from another planet and mesmerized poor Katie with some sort of alien Taser, I’m going to put my money on the Jolie-Pitts for the couple Least Likely to Have Given Birth to An Actual Human Baby.

Face it, Angelina is not of this world. No normal woman has lips, hair or hips like those and when combined with Brad’s blond-god genes, well.

Angelina seems to have some sort of ray gun herself, the way she has Brad doing all her bidding like a lost puppy looking for a leg to love.

But we shouldn’t blame the kids for the sins of the parents.

Leave the kids alone — they didn’t choose the celebrity life.

Besides, if these entertainment rags keep pushing, Shiloh and Suri might grow up looking as perpetually frightened as the Olsen twins.

And then how would they make a living?