As a 6 year old, I would often spend the afternoons in the garden playing with my toys. I had some stuffed animals, a mini tennis racket, a ball, and a small yellow water gun. Those were great times.
In the evenings, after I’d been sent to sleep, my parents would collect any toys that I’d left on the lawn during the day. One day, my dad went around the garden and gathered a handful of my stuff. As he was walking back the house, he commented on how some of the stuffed animals were impressively realistic.
Mum: “Oh which ones look real?”
Dad: “This snake is pretty amazing for a start”
Mum: “He doesn’t have a toy snake…”
Dad: *looks at snake*
Snake: *looks back at dad*
I can only imagine the fleeting moment of utter terror that came to pass as the pissed-off snake was hurled across the room and held at bay by a barrage of expletives. Animal rescue were quickly summoned and it turns out that the snake had escaped from its container in a nearby house, hence was not native to the UK. So it was pretty fortunate indeed that it hadn’t taken exception to my dad’s exposed skin as it was rudely awoken from its afternoon siesta.
Moral of the story- if you see a toy snake lying on the grass in the UK, poke it with a long stick before manhandling.