He touched the butt

Remember that scene in Finding Nemo where Marlin is adamant his son mustn't swim out off the reef and investigate the nearby boat? He does so anyway, fuelled by frustration and defiance, and looks his Dad straight in the eye when he slaps his little fin on the bottom of the vessel?

That was Toddler this morning in the Waitrose cafe queue. 

Don't swing on the metal bars sweet boy. They're not meant for children to swing on, it will break or you will get hurt. (Frankly I deserve a medal just for that bit alone since I have to say it every. Damn. Time. We. Go. In!!)

Toddler, if you touch that metal shelf again we will go home. 

(Toddler assumes Nemo-esque stance, looks me square in the eye, stretches out one pudgy hand and 'slap', touches the shelf. 

Ooooooh I was so mad. Am quite proud of myself though. I didn't speak. I just stared at him, then calmly cleared our tray, returned it to the pile, took his hand (ignoring the wailing) and walked him right back to the car. 

Little bugger!! How dare he touch the butt?! 

Has been angelic since. I should bloody well think so!