A snippet of the dramatic tale:

The crowd parted. 

“Say you’re sorry right now,”she hissed into my ear.  

Absolutely not. 

You howled like a wolf at the moon and clung to your mother like the baboon-faced marsupial that you are. Large tears fell liberally and within moments your face was a snot swamp. 

“Say. You’re. Sorry.” She held on to arm with a firm grip.

Looking down I muttered: “Applesaucy.”

We were both whisked away. All that remained at the crime scene was a small indentation in the sand where your head had fallen after my blow and a solitary toddler sock that had been left behind in the rush. 

More here.

Spoiler alert: Honest Toddler IS NOT SORRY.