Dangerous Toys of the ’70s That Would Never Get Approved Today

While picking up the 789 smaller-than-an-atom LEGOs from my living room floor the other day, I had a thought every parent probably has at some point: “Whoever came up with these devilish weapons disguised as toys clearly didn’t have kids at home.” That thought applies even more to various toys from the 1970s, which, by today’s standards, would basically be things you buy if you don't like your kid. 

Here are 10 dangerous toys from the ’70s that wouldn’t even make it past the prototype stage today. 

Whoever came up with clackers, A) had something against parents. B) was extremely passive-aggressive. I remember even as a kid, I found the clacking sound annoying. Two acrylic balls on strings that you’d swing until they smacked together with a loud clack. Kids swung them rhythmically to produce a satisfying clacking sound. 

Clackers appeared around 1968 and soared in popularity by the early '70s. They were fun until shards flying like tiny plastic grenades, sending hundreds of kids straight to the ER. By 1976, the dangerous maracas were discontinued and disappeared from shelves across the country, for the better. 

Arriving in 1970, this trippy-colored goo allowed kids to blow large plastic bubbles with a provided straw — think bubble gum meets chemical plant. Problem was, the goop released nasty chemical fumes, caused dizziness, headaches, and chemical burns, and was dangerously flammable. You know, just the toy to pair with candles, campfires, and that parentally unsupervised life of the '70s. It was eventually discontinued for safety reasons. 

In 1970, some genius decided children needed oversized metal darts to hurl around the backyard — because what says family fun more than spear-chucking? With sharpened tips and surprisingly good flight paths, Lawn Darts quickly turned barbecues into scenes from "Lord of the Flies." Over a 10-year span, Jarts caused roughly 6,100 ER visits and sadly, a few deaths.Not exactly what Mattel had in mind. They finally got banned in 1988 after one too many backyard battles ended tragically. 

Mattel thought it would be fun to make ships that launched tiny plastic missiles... right into kids' throats. After afew horrifying incidents, they pulled them and redesigned the toys so the missiles didn’t actually, you know, fit inside a windpipe. 

Technically launched in the '60s, the Creepy Crawlers Thingmaker hit peak popularity in the early ’70s. Kids poured colorful liquid plastic into metal molds, then baked them at 390°F. What possibly could've gone wrong? Third-degree burns, that's what — lots of them. After countless incidents of melted fingers and frantic hospital visits, Mattel phased out the oven version entirely in the mid-’70s.  

Because nothing says "good old-fashioned fun" like letting kids reenact the Civil War by firing plastic cannonballs at each other's faces. The Johnny Reb Cannon had shockingly good aim — and even better potential for black eyes, broken glasses, and dental bills. No formal recall ever happened (it was the ’70s — kids were basically free-range), but parents eventually realized maybe giving Little Timmy a working artillery unit wasn’t the best idea. The Johnny Reb quietly disappeared before anyone needed reconstructive surgery. 

The Water Wiggle was Wham-O's answer to the age-old question: "How can we make a garden hose more lethal?"​

This seven-foot plastic serpent, topped with a grinning, bell-shaped head, would thrash around unpredictably when connected to a garden hose, soaking everything— and everyone — in its path. It was all fun and games until the head popped off, revealing a high-pressure aluminum nozzle that could whip around like a flailing firehose. 

In 1978, a four-year-old boy drowned after the nozzle became lodged in his mouth, and a similar death occurred in 1975. Following these events, the Consumer Product Safety Commission and Wham-O recalled approximately 2.5 million units.  

Dip-a-Flower kits were supposed to be a wholesome craft project. In reality, they gave kids a stick, a pool of chemical sludge, and a prayer. You’d twist a wire into a flower shape and dip it into the colorful resin, hoping it hardened before the fumes knocked you out. No masks, no warnings — just you, your flower, and an invisible headache waiting to happen. It was creative, sure, but probably shaved a few years off everyone’s sense of smell. 

The Disc-o-Punch was basically a plastic gun that fired little frisbee discs across the room at alarming speeds. It sounded harmless until you took one to the mouth mid-sentence. They didn't hurt too badly if you were lucky, but one well-aimed shot could easily leave a welt or a chipped tooth.