Some of the best times I had was BB gun wars and shooting bottle rockets across the creek at eachother. Had a couple of nice burn and singe marks on my white winter coat.
We also wore our tennis shoes with holes, and with the souls flapping off before going to get new ones.
I also had my own .22 in my room and the LR bullets to go with it. We would go out all day in the fields (now those fields are subdivisions) and shoot at anything, moving or not. I was 8 or 10, and did not need permission to take it out.
My friends and I all had BB guns, rifles and one had plenty of them to loan out if someone was going to "play" with us that day. He even had a .22 pistol. Today we are still friends, he is an avid knife collector, still has his guns, plus a few more, and we go to the range a few times a year to shoot his pistols.
That Springfield .22 I had was awesome (tube fed, held 18 LR), but finally went to one of my little cousins when I went into the Navy.