Growing up in a small town meant we had to make our own fun. Luckily there were numerous crazes such as marbles and Yo-yos that came and went each year. There once was even a short-lived boomerang craze. Some afternoons the local kids would all compare boomerangs and see who could get the most consistent throws. A kid's dad even made or bought a really big one. We’re talking about a yard long on each arm. One balmy afternoon we were all down at the local park throwing bent projectiles at the sky when this kid arrived with his Dad. His dad laughed at our little boomerangs and dragged this monstrosity out of the car and told us all to put away our puny toys and step back and watch the magic. He had a couple of test throws but realised he needed to put a bit more effort into it to make it fly, so he took a run up and threw in a hefty overhand manner. All the kids just stared in wonder as this boomerang went "wokka wokka wokka wokka" off into the distance.
Then it started to turn around.
A couple of the smarter kids who knew what was happening started backing away and to the side. Before the others could realise what was happening it was too late. This helicopter blade of a boomerang flew in at top speed like a belligerent pterodactyl at a height just below the knee. Screaming kids and yipping dogs scattered everywhere but the dad was too slow. He copped it right in the shin and it broke his leg.
That was the day I became comfortable with the size of my boomerang.