When I was a kid, my friend Jimmy H. and I decided to play cowboys and Indians. We found a toy pistol, a bow, but no arrows. Jimmy said that his brother had some arrows in a locked cabinet in the basement. Fortunately, he knew where the key was.
After an hour of shooting razor sharp hunting arrows at each other, we became bored. We decided that we would shoot the arrows up in the air to see how high we could make them go. Our very first attempt was a disaster. The arrow came down and stuck in his roof.
Not wanting to get in trouble, we went to retrieve it. Jimmy’s dad came home to find his son dangling out a third story window, wildly flailing a yard rake around, trying to knock the arrow loose. Meanwhile, his idiot friend was holding by him belt to keep him from falling.
More proof that young boys need to be supervised.