Andrew Mountbatten-windsor Now Has Three Staff Members After Relocating

Let’s be honest—most of us measure life changes by things like “I finally bought a new toaster” or “I organized the junk drawer.” For Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, the bar is a little higher. The royal’s recent relocation to a new home has come with a very practical upgrade: three new staff members.

That’s right. Three. Whole. People. We’re not talking about a part-time gardener or a neighbor who waters the plants. This is a tiny workforce dedicated to making sure Andrew doesn’t step on a Lego or run out of milk.

It’s Like Going from a Studio Apartment to a House with a Garage

We’ve all been there. Okay, maybe not exactly there. But you know the feeling of upgrading from a cramped, one-room life to something with options. One day you’re arguing with your partner over who left the dishes in the sink; the next, you have a whole human whose job it is to handle the sink.

For Andrew, moving meant accepting that one person can’t do it all. His old setup probably involved a loyal butler who also doubled as a chef, a driver, and a therapist. Now? Each role has its own specialist. It’s the domestic equivalent of going from a Swiss Army knife to a full toolbox. You don’t realize you needed a dedicated “door answerer” until you have one.

The Staff Roles: A Very Human Reality

So who are these three brave souls? We imagine them like characters in a sitcom. First, there’s the logistics guru—the person who knows where the extra loo roll is kept and how to make the internet work again. Then there’s the culinary wizard, who silently judges your decision to eat cereal at 4 p.m. while still smiling. Finally, the admin ninja, who manages the calendar so Andrew doesn’t accidentally schedule two tea appointments at once.

Let’s not kid ourselves: this is pure, unadulterated luxury. For the rest of us, “hiring staff” means asking a teenager to mow the lawn for twenty bucks. For Andrew, it’s a professional ensemble. But here’s the funny part—he probably still has to ask them where he left his keys.

We’ve all bumbled into a new home and immediately lost the remote. Imagine doing that with three people watching you. “Has anyone seen my reading glasses?” you yell. And they all point to the same spot you just checked. That is the universal experience.

The Relocation Headache We All Share

Moving is a special kind of chaos, no matter your tax bracket. You box up your life, label everything “Kitchen – Misc,” and then spend three months looking for a spatula. Andrew’s move probably involved crates of heirloom china and a debate about which painting goes over the fireplace.

But the funny thing about having three staff members is that it doesn’t erase the stress. It just changes the flavor. Now, instead of arguing with your spouse about who should hang the curtains, you’re delegating. “Reginald, please hang the curtains. No, the other ones. Yes, the velvet ones. Why is this so hard?”

I like to imagine the first week in the new place. Andrew walks into the kitchen. One staff member is polishing a spoon. Another is alphabetizing the spice rack. The third is on hold with the cable company. It’s pure, organized chaos. And Andrew, like any of us, probably just wants a cup of tea but doesn’t know where the mugs are.

A Symphony of Small Annoyances

Here’s a secret: even with a team, daily life is full of tiny frustrations. For instance, who moved the cheese grater? In Andrew’s world, that question is a major investigation. The head of household operations has to be called. A report is filed. “The grater was last seen near the sink, Your Highness.”

Compare that to your life. You buy a new cheese grater at the dollar store and forget about it in a drawer. Either way, you are both searching for cheese-grating equipment at 6 p.m. on a Tuesday. That, my friends, is the great equalizer. Staff or no staff, the pursuit of cubed cheddar is eternal.

How to Stay Grounded When You Have a Team

You’d think having three people around would make you feel like a visiting dignitary in your own home. But human nature has a way of keeping you humble. I bet Andrew still leaves his shoes in the middle of the hallway. I bet he still forgets to take out the recycling—or, in his case, forgets to remind someone to take out the recycling.

The real lesson here is that relocation exposes our weaknesses. Whether you’re a prince or a plumber, you end up eating takeout over the sink for the first few days because the stove isn’t connected. The only difference is that Andrew’s takeout is probably from a Michelin-starred restaurant, delivered by one of his staff on a bicycle.

So let’s give Andrew a break. Three staff members might sound extravagant, but it’s just his version of hiring a handyman for a weekend. We all need help. Some of us just need more help than others—and that’s perfectly okay. As long as he remembers to say “please” and “thank you,” and doesn’t hoard the good tea bags, I think we can all nod along and smile.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go ask my cat where I put my phone charger. That’s my version of a staff meeting.