I used to play out unsupervised.
Before the age of 10 I had played with bullets, a Webley pistol, and a box of shotgun cartridges. Parents and schools today don't know the real meaning of the word 'risk'.
Aged 8, (about 2 years after the civil war ended in the country in Africa I lived my first half of my life) I was dragged along every weekend to the social club/bar set on the shores of a freshwater lake. The so called adults just sat around drinking all day. It was hellishly boring for kids, but the setting amongst the trees and granite boulders was stunning and a real adventure ground for exploring
One weekend, I found a heavy duty round in the mud on the foreshore. Serious result. Treasure. Eye candy. I rinsed it off in the water and apart from being a bit corroded, the large bullet was a beauty. Delighted with my find, I rushed up the hill and into the bar to show the adults my find. I did just that....
...and for some reason, unbeknown to me at the time, 20 to 30 adults screamed and hit the deck simultaneously.
Think I got grounded and wasn’t allowed to play outside for a while.