I fondly remember those. They were especially fun at my maternal grandmother's house. She lived on 1.5 acres in the country with a softball field across the dirt road, perfect for tossing them as high as you could or over the house.
I only caught a couple in the head. I'm mostly ok. Mostly.
Chris
Funny you should mention tossing them over the house...
I was friends with a guy in 8th grade or so, Scott. That would put us about 14.
He had a younger brother, Rick, I think, who was a couple of years younger, maybe 11 at the time.
Scott was a bruiser for his age. Big and really strong. His brother was well on the way towards being a bruiser, but the puberty fairy hadn't really landed yet.
They're playing around with lawn darts one day, and Scott decides to chuck one over the house, sort of a 1 1/2 story Capey Coddy kind of thing. Being big and strong as hell, he easily makes it over the house.
Rick decides to give it a try (or he was dared to), so he hauls back and lets fly... just as his Dad pulls into the drive way, and just in time for all three of them to watch Rick's lawn dart sail up, fail to reach escape velocity, and come down, very nicely drilling a hole in the roof -- through the shingles and sheathing -- about half way up.
I wasn't fortunate enough to have seen it, but from what Scott said, it got kind of exciting.
Of course, he told me this a month later, after he and Rick were finally released from their double secret grounding for life...