I returned home this after­noon from the doctor’s office (Michael has bron­chi­tis) to hear my hus­band call­ing for me like the house was on fire. I race upstairs to find him in our bed­room remote con­trol in his hand tele­vi­sion on pause.

“You’ve got to see this!” He exclaims while releas­ing the tele­vi­sion from its frozen state.

There in front of me is what I think a poor excuse for a UFO. “Yeah?” I ask, think­ing to myself, I raced up here to see a sorry ass excuse for an alien space ship!

“There’s a six year old boy in that thing!”

“What?”

“Watch.”

I watch, hear­ing a reporter relate that a home made helium bal­loon was seven thou­sand feet in the air.

“Oh-my-God…” I inhale.

My hus­band in all his seri­ous­ness starts to laugh. I’m stand­ing there watch­ing him laugh. LAUGH!

“It’s like Myth Busters.” He says, try­ing to explain his laughter.

“Babe. There’s a kid, a lit­tle bit older than Michael’s age in that con­trap­tion. He’s going to plum­met to his death, and you’re freak­ing laughing.”

“No he’s not.” He says, “They’ll res­cue him.” He is so sure of him­self I begin to see a hap­pier out­come than the tragedy that is play­ing in my mind.

“How?” I challenge.

“They’ll get a  fill in the blank Air Force craft with nets… blah, blah, blah…”  I’m pleased that he has com­plete faith in the branch of the mil­i­tary he and I by default serve.

Long story short — this crazy bal­loon landed. The boy, Fal­con Heene was not in the bal­loon. The hubs isn’t laugh­ing any­more. We’re all pray­ing that instead of being in that bal­loon he’s hid­den under­neath a bed some­where fast asleep. I fear how­ever that the out­come will not be good. The lat­est news reports claim that a neigh­bor saw some­thing fall out of the bal­loon shortly after it became unteth­ered near the boys home. A police offi­cer, news reports claim also saw some­thing fall out.

Inter­est­ing facts:

• This fam­ily — (WTF were the par­ents when the freak­ing thing went up?) were on that lame ass show Wife Swap.
• Fun fam­ily past times include storm chasing.

6:50 p.m.
So glad to write that this story has a happy end­ing. The boy was found in his attic.

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