Chocks Away!

Here I am with Mummy at Gatwick before my maiden flight. As you can see, we're both trying to summon-up a little Dutch courage for the trip.



Stand by front-gunner, were going over.

AMK

Jacksons Five. Kerrs Three.

Here I am with three of the Jackson Five. After a slow meander over the river we met up with the Jacksons for a Bank Holiday sup. We had a few games of charades and a couple of drinks - the perfect end to a lovely festive break.


From left to right we have Benjamin, William, Daddy, Me and Amber. And in the front we have my empty bottle and Daddy's empty pint glass (like father like son).

They're all moving house soon. I'm not sure how far Thames Ditton is, but I hope it's not too far - I'd like to hang out with the Jackson Five more often. But wherever it is, I'll be there (I'll find a way).

AMK

Merry Christmas! (Part III)

Yes, today marked my festive hattrick: day 3 of my Christmas extravaganza. After a lovely sunny morning at Nanna and Grandad's, we headed home and made it in super quick time. No sooner had I given my elephants a slap in the chops we were home (a mere 2 hour doze in the meantime helped the journey fly by).

This was the third and final Christmas day - an afternoon for me, M&D to kick back and relax en famille. I bought Mummy some make-up and Daddy some gloves. (Because I still struggle to verbalise my thoughts and actions, however, they took credit for my generosity. Pah!)

Despite the strange customs and excessive build-up, I like Christmas. Not sure I'll always have three every year, but all-in-all my first Christmas has been a bloomin' great one. Amen.

AMK

Merry Christmas! (Part II)

I woke up tired and a tad irritable this morning after a restless night. M&D had the bare-faced cheek to sleep in my room here at Nanna and Grandad's, you see, so I barely slept a wink. Mummy makes noises like jungle animals and Daddy makes endless trumpet sounds, so I lay awake and played with elephant for much of the night.

Still, it is Christmas. And now I know what all the fuss is about - what a jolly old day! After the snow, wind and rain of recent days, the sun came out: sun (yes, sun!) over Cardiff Bay just goes to show that Christmas is indeed a special day. Not only that, but there were lots of nice things all hidden in nice paper - gifts for all of us to open.

I needed a little bit of help but I had great fun ripping open my pressies and chewing the paper. Most of my presents were either clothes, which I don't need today, or toys that I'm not allowed to play with until I have full control over my hands. So the paper was the most fun.

Pretty soon we were all drowning in the stuff as the pressies flowed. Shirts, socks and bloomin' great hunks of bright plastic lay all about the place. Then the food started: Nanna did a great job of keeping the others placated and welded to the arm chairs by weighing them down with endless supplies of tip top grub.

I abstained from the gluttony (this yellow medecine has put me right off my milk) and kicked back with a book on the balcony. The Snowman didn't make it to Wales this year, but to be honest I'm glad.

AMK

Bye Bye Borders

At this time of supposed cheer and goodwill I'd just like to spare a thought for my friends at Borders. Many happy hours have been spent in that lovely shop: supping milk, chatting with my friends and thumbing-through a few books. Mummy even bought one once.

And I guess that was always the problem - for us regulars it was like a library, a public service. So small wonder it went out of business, but such a shame that it happened on Christmas Eve for all those nice people that worked there.

I guess Mummy and me will have to while away our afternoons elsewhere now. I'm hoping it might be next door in the Young's pub.

AMK

Little Joe gets RAMT'd

Further evidence that Christmas is indeed a strange time. For decades, so it seems, the great British public has cheered home the x-factor winner to a festive Number 1 in the charts.

Not so in 2009, pop pickers. Thanks to Jon Morter and his Facebook campaign, the nation was kept guessing until the 11th hour; and today it was Tom Morello and chums who stood triumphant over the dull, sullen corpse of poor little Joe's debut single with the cheerfully entitled "Killing in the Name".

Sony BMG are winners all round, given they represent both 'artists', but it's one in the eye for Cowell and his cronies nevertheless - if nothing else it goes to show Christmas isn't a God-given right (unless your name is Jesus).

AMK

Merry Christmas! (Part I)

Well, the folks were up at silly o'clock this morning - not to probe and rattle their presents but to check out the damage to their cars. Despite parking on a private gated drive, you can still wake up to a ding in your rear-end and a letter of apology pinned to your front door. What is the world coming to?

After the cursing and moaning, however, they remembered that today was the day of goodwill to all men and so we had a little sit down and a glass of some fizzy juice.

Soon the world was alright again and we settled down to some Christmas fun and frolics. This included the unwrapping of some top-drawer presents and the slow cooking of a giant rib of beef. If only I was on solids, mmmmmm.

By mid-afternoon I'd developed a certain sympathy for my friend Billy, however. As you can see from the picture below, it seems that it's tradition to dress small boys in red polyester regalia at this time of year. I can only be thankful that GG and Gramps only had a hat, and that I was spared the full ensemble.


The other thing to note from this picture is that my hands truly are gargantuan (look at GG's right shoulder).

By evening I'd also had my first taste of a computer game. When Daddy was a young lad he got to play Pong, which sounds appropriately pre-pubescent. My first taste of computer games, however, was whistling down a ski jumpand leaping 114 metres. My cheeks were virtually (ahem) chapped by the time I'd ski-ploughed to a halt. And as a result I now really need a Wii (yes, it was THAT exciting).

Roll on next Christmas (yes, Grandpa, that's a hint!)

AMK

My First Christmas. (Of Three.)

Here we are in happy old Wimbers once again, visiting GG and Grandpa. This time is special though as we're having an early Christmas - my chance to find out what all the fuss is about.

There's snow on the ground, a tree in the hall (much nicer than our dead twig at home), sweets in pots never more than an arm's length away and a GIANT new tele to watch things on. Ho ho ho indeed!

I got so excited this afternoon that I tried to put my entire fist in my mouth. Nearly succeeded too if it wasn't for the fact my hands are so ruddy big.

Roll on tomorrow (our faux Christmas Day), when I'll get to see if the fat red-suited burglar makes it (which will be nothing short of a miracle given GG and Grandpa have got a gas fire).

AMK

Nine Girls. One of Me. I'd Call that Pimms O'Clock.

I've now got lots of friends, all of whom I've known pretty much my whole life. Most of them are girls, which I think is pretty cool, although Daddy seems to think this will be a problem when I'm about 8 and again when I'm about 16 (albeit for different reasons both times). But I hope these problems won't be too bad and that we stay life-long chums.

Today I met up with Ellie, Toes and Sophie at Auntie Zoe and Uncle Morph's house for a pre-Christmas catch-up. Presents were exchanged and I got some plastic cups that stack: stacking cups. But the most exciting thing we all had to play with was Cinnamon the puppy. (Just like friends, a dog is for life not just for Christmas.)



It was Tabitha Toes' second Christmas so she told me all about it. I think she was making a lot of it up though - some likely tale about a burglar who breaks-in via the chimney and leaves more than he takes.

This time next week I guess we'll all know what really happens. And this time next year we'll all be able to tell any new babies about Santa the bungling thief.

AMK

Talent Shines Through. Personality Loses Out.

So that's it for another year: the X-factor winner has been crowned for 2009. The young lad from the North East (I forget his name) won a less than memorable title after The Afghan Hound, Butlins Boy and 'The Mouth' failed to ignite the public interest. My money had been on Jedward but sadly they never recovered from the Ghostbusters debacle.

Still, Mr Cowell got to the top of the entertainment money leagues: here he is thanking the Great British public. While 19 million viewers were tuned into the light channel, however, I was watching the Sports Personality of the Year show with the other 14 people. It was a good job the nation was looking elsewhere - they muddled up the prizes, you see. That Welsh footballer chap with the beady eyes was down for a lifetime achievers award (he's 84 afterall) but scooped the top prize. So poor old Jenson Button was left with the runners-up trophy and a speech that no one got to hear.

Here he is being consoled by a dear friend. All things considered, I'd rather have been a runner-up too.

AMK

Santa Billy

More reasons to think that Christmas is a funny old time of year. My usually sensible and stylish friend Billy was in a very strange get-up today.

We were over at his house again this afternoon so M&D could eat mince pies and drink funny-smelling warm wine with their friends, when Billy made an appearance wearing a little red suit that crackled when he walked.

I hope this is only a temporary fashion faux pas and that he'll soon be back to his normal self.

AMK

Now That's a Tree

Saw my old chum Billy today. His Christmas Tree is much better than mine: a black mark against Daddy I'm afraid.



Mummy looks lovely. But I'm worried that Daddy is going to turn me into a mini version of him (note my jeans and silly shirt, and his).

AMK

Daddy's a Lumberjack. Not sure he's Alright.

It's December now. It's a peculiar month, by all accounts; a lot of strange things are happening, but no one but me seems at all bothered.

I am trying to watch Sean the bloomin' Sheep here!

Take today for instance. Adelaide and Damien came to visit, which was nice. Adelaide has a baby in her tummy so I took the opportunity to pass on a few words of wisdom. Daddy and Damien, meanwhile, popped out only to return with a dead tree. Daddy seemed to think I'd be delighted about this. Silly man. It sits there in the corner of the room getting in the way of the tele.

I shall keep my eye out for more peculiar behaviour and will report back.

AMK

My Left Foot.

M&D know a Guernian who went to Australia and became a Yogi Master. Ross Despres, eat your heart out my friend.

AMK

AMK vs Zoolander

Proof enough: here I am sporting my label of choice. Not only that, I've mastered my own version of Blue Steel.

AMK

This Week, AMK Recommends...

Underneath my cot there are three big boxes full of my old clothes. I'm four months old.

Now I'm a boy of style and taste, hence the storage issues (fashion is a fickle mistress), but Daddy is a tramp. According to him my sartorial pride will always come second to the appetite of the moths in his wallet, which is why he's banned Mummy from buying me any new clothes.

Thankfully, Mummy has discovered a loophole in this draconian dictat from heir Daddy: Teddington has a super cool baby-wear charity shop called Fara! All the people in Tedders who are less miserly than Daddy donate their clothes to Fara and then all the people who are misers - like Daddy - come and buy them. This means the posh people feel all virtuous, the misers are happy 'cos they get a bargain, and - more importantly - the children of Romania get a helping hand courtesy of Fara.

So, the first recommendation of the week goes to Fara and their lovely kids shop in Teddington.

But that's not all. After picking up a fine selection of cast offs I can now recommend my label of choice. Now, if it were up to Daddy I'd be wearing sensible, comfortable and cheap clothes - quite possibly sportswear akin to the tat sold and modelled by this awful man.

My clothing brand of choice, however, comes from the same nation as all the finest fashion houses. Unlike the ape Ashley and his shell suits and replica football tops, I'd like to think Saint Laurent himself might have gurgled and giggled in Petit Bateau. Without wanting to go all Gok Wan, the cut of even their vests is exquisite. So despite Daddy's ban, as long as Fara are peddling used French fashion I'll be looking a million dollars. Or eight million francs. Mangetout.


Then there's always noaddedsugar.com for when I'm feeling a little more street.

AMK

Strewth! Was that You Dolly?

With the highest rainfall on record anywhere in the UK, Cockermouth in Cumbria has just suffered terrible floods.

Apparently the world is getting warmer, which means it rains more and we've all got to do our bit to keep it cool. That includes cutting down the number of times we go to warm places on holiday. Confused? Wait 'til you hear this.

About 16% of Australia's greenhouse emissions come from agriculture, so Aussie scientists have said they are hoping to breed sheep that burp less as part of their effort to tackle climate change. (Depsite popular belief, burping is a far greater cause of emissions in sheep than flatulence, so they say.) Experiments will help them understand whether excessive belching is genetic, in which case they can breed less gassy varieties.

I suggest they simply stop taking their livestock to the pub and start weening them off the amber nectar.

AMK

Shake, Rattle and Roll

It turns out I'm not the only thing to emerge from inside Mummy this year.

Now that I've lost all but the least squemish of my readers, I shall expand. As noted in an earlier entry we discovered that Mummy has lots of stones in her belly. A very galling state of affairs, apparently, that made her tummy hurt lots.

So today we all went off to the hospital - not mine but another one that looks like a giant pub from the outside. (This made her feel a little less worried and actually quite excited.) We stayed for a while and watched Deal or no Deal in Mummy's room. The nurse came in and wanted to play with me, but frankly she was getting in the way of Noel and I was glad when she'd put Mummy's funny socks on for her and left.

But then Daddy and me had to go home. The poor old soul had to do my tea and get me bathed and ready for bed. After turning the house upside down and making a bit of a hash of things, Auntie Stephanie arrived and saved the day. I like playing with my Auntie and Daddy's not so bad really. But I miss my Mummy.

AMK

POST SCRIPT: I can confirm Operation BoulderDash has been a success! I was promised a rattle afterwards, made with the very stones themselves. It turns out, however, there were enough boulders in there to build a rockery!

Lost & Found

Anyone seen that damned caterpillar?

AMK

Oh the Shame of It.

There are those who set trends. And there are others who follow. Although I admit there won't be many people following my 'Gay Pirate' look, it seems my hair-do is having an effect on popular culture. Sadly, the imitators are the half-witted talentless-twins from the X-factor talent show: John and Edward, aka 'Jedward'.

Time for reinvention. Perhaps a 'fro?

AMK

Just Monkeying Around

It's the weekend at last. After 5 days of lunching with the ladies it's a chance for me to spend some bloke time with the old boy. Or so I thought. By the time I'd awoken from my mid-morning nap, Daddy had disappeared to play golf again. Yawn.

Still, I had a splendid time with some of Mummy's friends from her glamarous agency days. Darling! Luke and Catherine came to visit with Holly, who I let play with my stuff and steal just a little bit of the limelight. She was very nice and we had a tip top time.

After my new friends had left I'd virtually given up hope on spending any time with Daddy when he re-appeared, all down in the mouth after hitting his ball far too many times. But within just a short while we were off to see Billy and his Mummy and Daddy for some fun. Over in downtown Kingston (it's a bit rough but I like it), we arrived at their nice big house and got down to playtime in no time. Billy let me play with his toys and even let me have a bath in his bath at bathtime (as I went first I shared a pearl of wisdom from Great-Grandpa: 'don't drink your bathwater').

After me and Billy went to sleep, it seems the old folk had a late supper and played games until it was up-time. M&D looked a bit green in the morning, so while Billy watched TV I monkeyed around in the kitchen with my new chum.



AMK

Is it a Bird? Is it a Plane?

Today was the last day of our trip abroad. Wales seems a fine place although if you stay too long there's a jolly good chance you'll develop webbed toes. I fear Nanna has been there just a few days too long already. You see, early this morning the sun battled through the dismal, grey mizzle for a fleeting second; forgetting what it was, her first reaction was to shield me from the great ball of flame in the sky. It was very courageous of Nanna but entirely unnecessary: another day without any sunshine and the lack of vitamin E would have surely led to the early onset of rickets.



We're all going back for Christmas, which will be fun. Auntie Stephanie will be there too and I'm hoping she might take me out on a boat. And if everyone wants mackerel for Christmas breakfast, I'll see if I can convince Grandad to get his fishing rods out.

AMK

Who Needs an Ark?

To escape the floods that would purge the world of all evil, God tipped-off old Noah and suggested he might build a bloomin' great boat. With the rains lashing down today I thought some sort of flood contingency would be sensible, but didn't have the tools or parts to fashion a giant ark.

The next best thing, of course, was to learn how to swim. So I popped on my new trunks and went splish-splashing about in the pool under Nanna and Grandad's flat; after a few lengths of butterfly, here I am having a little rest.



AMK

Over the Bridge and Far Away.

Today Mummy and me arrived in Cardiff. It's in Wales, which is a long way away - even further than Norfolk. We had to pay to drive over a big bridge, which seemed unfair given how people leaving to get to England can cross for free.

By the time we got to Nanna and Grandad's I was pretty hacked off (Mummy got lost somewhere between Morrison's and Toys'r'Us) but Nanna was on hand to make everything alright again. Grandad and Daddy, meanwhile, had to battle the elements and unpack the car full of all my things (really must remember to tip).

It was nice to see everyone again. (It turns out Daddy spent his 'me time' drinking beer courtesy of Channel 4 and traveling all the way to Edinburgh to watch 'A Christmas Carol' at the cinema. Ha!) Nanna and Grandad live in a nice big flat over-looking the bay where all the boats are. Largely because it was blowing a big hoolie, we decided to stay indoors and watch the racing at Cheltenham. Here's Grandad and me cheering on Loosen my Load in the 1.15.

Sadly for Grandad, the excitement of it all did exactly that.

AMK

Wimborne Book Festival. Sort of.

6 Whiteways is fast becoming a home from home for me - a country retreat where I can pursue my interests and hobbies away from the cut and thrust of city life. While taxidermy, model making and fencing are still very much on my 'things to do' list, reading is currently my number 1 pastime.

Daddy has encouraged me to read the great French thinkers (Goscinny and Sempe mostly), while Mummy is keen I take part in the many cultural debates of the day by leaving me copies of Ok and Heat. But in all honesty, you can't beat a good yarn about animals told in a maximum of 10 words and published on cloth.


Here's GG helping me flick through my current favourite (although I caught her out reading it back-to-front here - you can't kid a kidder, or a kiddie).

AMK

Talk to Me Goose

Well, it seems Mummy has sent Daddy off packing for more 'me time' so we made a dash down to Dorset to see GG and Grandpa. So far it's been a lot more jolly than last time as it's only been me doing sicks and poos.


I spent some time this evening with Grandpa, who was telling me all about his time in the Royal Air Force. The Queen gave him a medal once for not ejecting and saving one of her planes when it was in trouble.

Here he is re-telling it blow by blow, but thankfully he stopped short of throwing me through the ceiling.

I tried to explain to him that there's a chap in TopGun named after me who has a nasty ejector seat incident, but I'm still struggling to articulate my words and I think it was lost on him.

AMK

I Forgot my Sling and Stones. No Matter.

As I spend a lot of time biffing-up my giraffe, elephant and lion, Daddy thought I'd like to watch this video clip. It shows David Haye (our boy) taking on the Russian giant Nikolai Valuev (I'll let you work out who's who).

Haye overcame the imposing physical threat of the Russian, not to mention the immense psychological challenge, by running quickly round the ring. This frenzied dashing, ducking and diving seems to have bored the giant thus giving Haye the occasional opportunity to punch his knees. After going the 12 rounds, this tactic earned our lad a clever points victory and the WBA Heavyweight Champion title.

Bravo "Hayemaker"!

AMK

P.S. To give Mr Haye full credit, it seems he broke his hand in the third round by foolishly punching Valuev in the face: "His head was like a giant brick"!

Everyone's a Critic. Including Me, it Seems.

Thank you, dear reader, for taking part in the great vote. You have now given me a mandate to bore you with my musings on things and to recommend them to you. I suspect "Which?" magazine will soon be deferring to this blog before making any rash verdicts on their own.

What does AMK recommend this week? The Poppy Appeal.

AMK

Anyone Seen My Caterpillar?

NCT: New Children in Training

This life, it's a daunting thing. There's just so much to do, to learn, to understand - for both Mummy and me.

Thankfully, we're not in this alone: we have a special gang! Before I made my grand entrance back in July, Mummy went to special baby lessons with 4 other ladies. Daddy went along too apparently, but only for the tea and biscuits.

The lessons were all very well but from what I remember on the big day, I don't think M&D were calmly discussing the syllabus; the best thing about NCT is having ready-made friends. Here I am with Hannah and Felix. Felix is the one who's in training to be an opera singer.



Like X-Men, we all have different powers and together we are a formidale force. Christy can roll over at will; Hannah sleeps whenever and wherever she wants, irrespective of the (DIY) noise around her; Lana can stop people in their tracks with her cheeky smile; Felix can lock his legs and pretend to stand up; and I can issue disapproving frowns.

There are gangs like ours all over. But we've got Borders in Kingston on lock down - you better watch yo self.

AMK

Yes We Can.

Change. It's a frightening and wonderful thing. Please be kind enough to vote on my new survey; having a little direction should help me evolve this little blog of mine and stop me waffling aimlessly on from one entry to the next.

Most kind,

AMK

It's Not all Work, Work, Work (at Least I Hope Not)

Samuel Johnson once said, apparently, that when a man is tired of London he is tired of life. Today I got my first taste of the Big Smoke and so far I think old Sam was onto something, despite Mummy trying to make it as boring as possible. You see, with all the incredible adventures to be had in our fair capital, all we did was visit Mummy's work and then Daddy's office. Dull, dull, dull.

My first adventure on a train was relatively unremarkable. After Mummy lugged me and my buggy up all the stairs at Hampton Wick we boarded successfully and chugged to Victoria. The train is a funny place during the day - it seems full of college students, old people and the insane.

Once we arrived at Victoria a nice man helped us get down some stairs before we made a dash for Mummy's work where we met her Capita friends. It was nice to meet them all but I think it was strange for Mummy. At least I'll be able to imagine what she's up to once I'm at nursery and she's back earning the pennies. After a nice long natter with the girls, we made a dash along the river to see Daddy.

Daddy works for a bank so I was expecting his work friends to be wearing braces and looking glum. Thankfully they were just the opposite - no braces to be seen and plenty of smiles. Auntie Caroline took me for a stroll round the office; I issued a few suggestions and recommended that one trader move his krugerrands out of lichtenstein before I realised that Daddy works in marketing and isn't a proper banker at all (he does little more then play 'spot the difference' all day long, except when he's got his colouring pens out).

All three of us then wondered back to Waterloo before hopping on the train home. This time it was full of commuters - all silent, surly and sleepy (I prefer the insane and unemployed). I enjoyed my day today and now I know what this "work" thing has in store. But all things considered, it rather gets in the way of enjoying London.

AMK

3 Months Old Today

A quarter to one.

AMK

Kingston Junior Book Club

Billy and me joined a book club today. The plan was to act all cultured in order to check out girls. Unfortunately, it was only the two of us so we actually had to read a book. Lorks a lordy.


It was a simple story about a singing farmer. Young Billy seemed to enjoy it, but if you ask me Old MacDonald is nothing short of insane.

AMK

Toy Boy

I've not been on my own for more than the 6 minutes it takes Mummy to get showered and dressed in the morning (unless you count night times in my cot). But it seems that the older you get the more time you need on your own - at least that's what Mummy told Daddy. We left him on his own for a day or two so he could do some work and have a beer with Uncle Phil.

I don't get it. I can't get enough of seeing my chums and meeting new people. Here I am meeting up with my girl Sophie at GG and Grandpa's house. We always have fun, although here's clear evidence she's trying to steal my caterpillar. Sophie is 6 months old now and I'm only just about to be 3; one day I shall remind her that one day she was double my age.

AMK

Flyweight to Featherweight

Daddy's still hanging around the place, but I hear he's going back to work tomorrow to leave Mummy and me in peace. But while he's here I guess it is quite nice to troop around, the three of us.

This afternoon we went to the clinic where the nice ladies strip me off and put me in the big silver dish for the weigh-in. After a slow start it now seems I'm packing on the pounds and am no longer in the runner bean category. Smiles all round.

Everyone there is nice - Mummy always makes friends and I check out the other boys and girls. (Daddy said it's good that only Mummies and babies tend to go to the weigh-in; if it was full of Daddies then it would become ultra competitive.)

This morning wasn't so great. Poor Mummy had to go to the hospital where the doctor told her she's definitely got stones in her tummy and will have to have an operation.

If I'd known they were in there I could have brought them out with me back in July.

AMK

And I Want a Bike and a Monkey and a Friend for the Monkey

When my hair is spikey, old ladies will cross the road to come and touch it. Cars stop in the street, people wave and cheer. I look damn good, what can I say.

But today, just for a moment, I lost my spikes. My hair went floppy and Daddy said I turned into Ralph Wiggum.

Daddy goes back to work tomorrow and I'm glad.

AMK

We're in Cardigans and Ready to Rock

I felt like Braveheart today: I issued a rallying cry and Clan Kerr descended onto Teddington to ruffle up the locals and to belatedly announce my arrival properly. Nanna and Grandad were the first to arrive but neither were in kilts and I'm pretty certain Grandad hadn't painted his bottom blue. (But he was wearing a cardigan that matched mine, which I thought was cool.)

Auntie Stephanie came too. I always like seeing my auntie; she makes me chuckle and we have a nice play. But the biggest surprise was meeting Great Auntie Ave and Great Uncle Mike (Nanna said Ave would love to be called Great Auntie).

Daddy cooked a great big feast for everyone (except me, as usual). Ave is very loud and jolly and tells good jokes. I sat on her knee and we had a good old chat before we all took a stroll down to the river.

I like being part of the Kerr Clan. And I'm glad we wear cardigans and not kilts.

AMK

Phileas Fogg has Nothing on Me

According to Giles Whittell writing for The Times "the skies were cleared over much of Colorado yesterday when a homemade flying saucer broke free of its tether and soared for two hours along the edge of the Rockies as rescuers chased it on the ground and in the air, believing a six-year-old boy was inside.

The US Air Force and the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) were alerted and two helicopters of the Colorado Air National Guard mobilised to chase the balloon.

The FAA drew up plans to pluck it from the sky with hoists such as those designed during the Cold War for the mid-air recovery of returning space capsules. It also considered using a microlight for a mid-air rescue or even ordering Air National Guard helicopters to try to force the balloon down with the downdraft from their rotors.

The balloon’s 40-mile flight was followed so closely by emergency services that they were on the scene within seconds when it finally touched down. A sheriff’s deputy sprinted across a ploughed field and grabbed a tether to prevent it becoming airborne again. Rescue workers were dreading what they would find inside.

They soon had their answer: nothing. For Falcon Heene had been safe at home all along, hiding in a box in the attic over his father’s garage."

It's uncanny, but our chum Falcon has since been approached by Disney to promote their new 3D animated extravaganza 'Up'. I wonder whether that was the motivation behind Mummy buying me my very own helium balloon?



AMK