Your Daddy watched this scene play out. He laughs throughout the story every time he tells it. It sounds like he’s playing back a tape of the show in his head. You handled the situation perfectly! He is so proud of you.
You were at church, in a room with other three-year-olds. You were all playing. One little boy was a little rambunctious. You and Daddy both saw him run at a little girl, bump hard into her and knock her to the floor. She came up screaming and crying. He ran at another child and knocked him to the floor. The boy, too, came up screaming and crying.
Then the randy rascal looked over at you. You had looked away, but you were clearly watching him in your peripheral vision, with a slight, sly smile on your sweet little face as you saw him coming. When his body made contact with yours, you reached around and grabbed his arm, pulling on him so he stayed with you as you tumbled to the floor. You both landed face down beside each other.
You popped right up, looking around to find the location of your attacker. There he was, still on the floor with his face planted in the carpet. You watched him as he slowly stood up, shaking himself, and looking confused, as if he was thinking, “What the heck just happened?!” Then you quietly hip-hopped away to play somewhere else, in your fancy dress, frilly little socks, black patent Mary Janes, and with your long, blonde curls bouncing. No big deal.