The All Clear sounds...

It was just after dawn when Wilson finally emerged from his bunker, blinking in the light. 

'New Dad – you're alive!' he exclaimed, 'How is Antony's toy? Is anyone else alive?'

'Everyone is alive,' I told him. 'The asteroid missed Earth by thousands of miles, exactly as predicted.' 

W came into the house where I had a cup of coffee and some ant cookies waiting for him. 

After a moment's thought, he said, 'Right. We're not all dead, lets go and fly my kite to celebrate. We could paint an asteroid on it, to scare people!'

Off to the bunker...

There was no sign of Wilson when I got up this morning, but I found a scribbled note left on the dining table: 

'Check the news from Russia – it's started! I'm in the bunker. 

'Please look after Antony's toy as best you can. 

'Thank you for everything, New Dad. 

'Love, 

'Wilson Vermilingua OBE. 

'PS If you're not killed, please come and get me when the danger has passed. XXX'

Valentines Day

St Valentine's Day took Wilson by surprise this morning, when a crop of envelopes landed on the doormat. Most of his mail proved to be identical Valentine cards from his family, but there was one mystery card. 

'This is the third time this has happened!' W exclaimed fractiously. 'I really don't have the time for this… I must get on with my Survival Shelter.'

'What Survival Shelter?' I enquired.

'I'm building an asteroid-proof underground bunker in the back garden. There will be room for me, Antony and a supply of ants and ant juice. Antony's toy will have to remain outside, unfortunately.'

'And where will I be?' I asked, although I think I already knew the answer.

Wilson looked me up and down. 'You're very large, New Dad, you won't fit in the shelter. I think your best bet will be to remain outside, sit under the dining room table and hope for the best. Perhaps you could take care of Antony's toy while you're there.' 

Wilson doesn't receive a reply...

A couple of days ago, following the suggestion of Cathy, one of his friends, Wilson contacted Brian Cox to ask him for reassurance about the impending asteroid close pass:

"Dear Professor Cox, can you PROMISE me that we're not all going to die next week? New Dad tries to reassure me but... pic.twitter.com/3EwoJg53" 

Brian Cox has not replied… which in Wilson's mind can mean only one thing: we're all going to die.

I tried explaining that the professor was probably in Indonesia filming a new series, and was perhaps out of range of Wi-Fi, but W has made his mind up.

The new Pope

Following the shock resignation of the Pope yesterday, Wilson is writing his CV so he can apply for the job himself. As he pointed out to me, not only would Wilson the 1st be the first Costa Rican Pope, he would also be the first Flying Spaghetti Monsterist to hold the post. 

I advised him to play down this aspect of his spiritual life.

Halfway through writing his CV, W closed the MacBook with a sigh and said, 'What's the point? We'll all be dead before I even get appointed! It's such a shame, I could have issued such great Edicts. And Papal Bulls…' 

I think he was really looking forward to driving around in the PopeMobile.

We're all going to die!

There was no point lying to Wilson about 2012 DA14 — he has access to Google, after all — so I told him the truth: it's a 500m asteroid that's going to pass quite close to Earth.

'How close?' he asked.

'Not very' I replied, hoping this would satisfy him.

'We are all going to die!' he wailed. 'You are so naïve, New Dad! Do you really think they'd TELL us that it's going to hit the Earth and kill everyone? Of course they won't, there'd be pandemonium!'

'Look, I promise you it's going to miss us!' I said.

'Well it doesn't look very much like that here' he replied, pointing to the tv. 'It looks like it's heading straight for us!'

National Geographic Society

Wilson was sitting in the dining room, composing a very strongly-worded email to the National Geographic Society about how they shouldn't put such scary photographs of microbes in their magazine, when a news item came on the radio.

As soon as he'd sent the email he came to find me, asking, 'New Dad, what's 2012DA14?'

My heart sank.