A little horror story from almost a decade ago:
Polaroid gave me a LOT of outdated Polaroid Sepia, because they knew I loved it and they could hardly sell it past date.
I was down at the sea-front in winter, taking hand-held pics with an MPP: I lived 70 yards from the sea. Three teenage girls drifted by. "Take our photo!"
So I did, and gave them prints, and on the back of a scrap print I wrote my name, address and phone number and said, "If you parents what to know who I am, and why I'm doing this, they can call me." I'd already explained that it was free film and I was just playing with it.
Half an hour later, the police came round: a young policewoman. We showed her a stack of our books -- twenty or thirty published works on general photography, with my name on the cover -- and she sniffed, and said, "Huh. An opportunist photographer."
In other words, there was already a strange paranoia abroad in the UK, and ordinary, decent, normal human behaviour counted for nothing, including an attempt to set the parents' minds at rest. One phone call from any of the girls' parents would have cleared up the whole matter in seconds, and I have to say that in their situation, I'd probably have called to check what the girls were saying. But no. CALL THE POLICE.
People get the government, the police and the laws that they ask for.
Cheers,
R.