The Tin Toad Caper

Okay, so it was a little after dark as I stepped outside on the deck and noticed that our solar night light wasn't working.  The night light is in a decorative tin toad about the size of a one gallon milk jug.  I picked up the toad, and about 60 feet away our Corolla blinked its headlights.  Odd!  Our dog stared at the car and barked and I sat the toad down and stood contemplating this clearly unrelated series of events. All was quiet. Believing a test was in order, I bent down, lifted the toad, and sure enough, the Corolla flashed its lights. So now it’s getting a little freaky!  I tried it again, same results!  I stepped hurriedly to the front door and asked my wife to come out and witness this bizarre phenomenon.  Watch this. I bent down, lifted the little toad and, sure enough, the lights dutifully flashed and then went out.  The dog barked and backed away, Robin and I stared at each other in disbelief, and the hair on the back of my neck began to bristle. “Okay,” she said, “You’re freaking me out.  How’d ya do that?” We were preparing to go back in the house and lock the door when, despite my better judgment, I decided to try it one last time.  This time, as I bent down the headlights began flashing, the horn began sounding frantically, Robin made a hasty retreat to the kitchen, the poor dog went into fits and spasms, and I realized that each time I’d bent down to get the toad, my pocket change had triggered the panic button on the key-chain in my pocket.  I knew it all along.   SC