as a youngster of about eight years, my grandad bought me a .177 webley junior rifle, and as a youngster of about eight years, i had no sense of danger.
i had left the rifle loaded with one of those red plastic re-useable pellets that could be bought about fourty years ago, anyhow, my dad was raking out the ashes to make a fire that morning, i picked up the little rifle, took aim at his arse, squeezed the trigger (obviously not knowing that i'd left it loaded )well- talk about scream- he nearly went up the chimney
he turned around and slapped me with the flat of his hand and he lifted