My nephew, who’s two and a half and calls aeroplanes “neowms” has visited the flying club several times to sit in an aircraft and shout “up”. Today I got to take him ‘up’ for real.
My sister and mum were along for the ride too. My mum has come along in the back when I’ve been flying with an instructor, so at least knew what to expect but my sister was rather on the nervous side!
Troy on the other hand kitted out with high-vis and headset, was cheerfully sprinting up and down impersonating an aeroplane, and shouted “Nope!” when asked if he was scared.
We got him settled in his car booster seat in the back with ‘Nana’. My sister climbed into the front as I finished up the checks.
A chorus of “yes”s came back – the baby’s the least nervous of the lot. He was completely unperturbed by the takeoff, though my sister held on tightly as we got the usual little bumps over the cycle path.
We’d decided to go along the coast, have a wave to my mum’s house and back again. Troy was glued to the window, as Mum and Nana pointed out sheep, cows, cars, and boats (otherwise known as “rowrows” in the same way aeroplanes are “neowms”.)
“Me see big pink rowrow,” he announced as we flew over the container ships in the Haven.
We flew over Tenby and Manobier looking very scenic in the sunshine – the novelty of seeing the shape of the coastline all spread out went down very well.
The baby was starting to nod as we headed back and was bribed to stay awake with the promise of juice after we landed.
“Down down down,” he instructed.
We landed and he promptly changed his mind, pointed ot one of the Tomahawks, and announced, “Me up that blue neowm.”
He was promised another day and, all smiles we walked back to the flying club. Though I was about two foot off the floor still I think!