So I know you probably weren't expecting this, but apparently I actually was under arrest. Which is surprising because, so far as I know, being extremely embarrassing and a klutz is not illegal. But the man pulled some kind of makeshift handcuffs out of his jacket. I should say that is quite the feat as his jacket was quite skin tight. But you don't have time to ask this question to people when they have you pinned to a fence while the child you nanny runs around the playground throwing sand at everyone.

"Can I have someone over here, please?" he spoke from behind me, I assume into his phone. "I need assistance."

There was a brief pause and some mumbling from his phone as he secured my arms behind my back.

The person on the other end must have said something supremely stupid because he snapped back at them. "She doesn't look that strong? That's your reasoning? Well, she has a kid with her. Someone has to watch him."

"Okay, seriously, man?" I struggled to turn around and face him. "This all seems like a joke. Your handcuffs aren't even real."

"A joke?" his eyes held no sense of humour, and he searched my face. "I assure you international security is no joke, Ma'am."

Ma'am?!?

"Did you just ma'am me?" Something about being arrested was making me needlessly feisty. Honestly being arrested seems like the worst time to start being unnecessarily feisty, but there I was, doing it anyway.

Fortunately, he mostly ignored me as his eyes scanned the park to follow Pedro's antics, presumably so as not to lose track of a child before his colleague arrived. I could have just called out to Pedro and had him come stand silently beside me, but I wasn't about to help the strange man abducting me. My cell phone was still in my pocket, but with my hands tied together behind my back, it would be really hard to reach it.

Imagine, if you will, a snake trying to wriggle out of its skin. That is what I looked like as I tried to reach both of my hands around my broken pants and stretched toward my jacket pocket. It was in this contorted position that I was caught when the supposed cop, who was honestly becoming less and less attractive by the minute, turned around to check on me.

"Are you... trying to escape?" The smirk on his face was irritating. The kick Pablo swiftly applied to his shins was supremely well-timed.

Poor man forgot to wear his shin guards to work that morning and doubled over in pain as Pedro bolted toward the main gate of the park. So, naturally, I had to follow him. I mean, he needs to be safe, right?

It's actually really hard to run with your hands tied behind your back and your pants tied on the side of your hip, so I attracted my fair share of attention during my trip. If anyone asks, I am chasing after Pablo.

My pants were literally falling apart as the clips and safety pins that had precariously held them together moments before could not hold up under the intense pressure of my slight jog. My lungs screamed out for air and it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Officer Less-Handsome-Now was going to run a lot faster than me.

Pablo was also much faster than me and was doing a little dance at the next corner, itching for me to catch up so he could cross the street. But if we crossed the street, I'd be caught for sure — it was a straight shot from the entrance to the park.

"Hey, Pablo!" I called to him. "Let's play a game!"

His little head bobbed up and down emphatically as he skipped back to me with greater speed than I could run. Which was also embarrassing, so let's leave that be for a minute.

When Pedro was within hearing distance, I tried to keep my voice calm. "Let's go see if we can find Mr. Jacques at the bakery!" I exclaimed, pointing to the nearby alley that would connect us to the street where Pablo's favourite cookies were housed.

Of course, as you are expecting by now, I tripped over a very large rock less than twelve steps into the alleyway but saved it with a very valiant somersault flip combo thing and was soon up and running like I was in a terrible action film. Pablo did a perfect cartwheel beside me, using only one hand.

You can tell me I'm lying, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Good luck getting the truth out of Pablo after the number of cookies I fed him.

We rounded the corner out the other side of the alley and there was still no sign of the strange badgeless officers from earlier, so I was starting to think it was all either a prank or a misunderstanding. Surely I just had to find a place to cut these handcuff things off, and then we'd continue our day.

And there I made yet another collision with a fence. But in my defense, it was either crash into the fence or crash into the man who had just exited Mr. Jacques' bakery.

My self-sacrifice was for nothing, though, as the man still glared at me and yelled, "Hey! I could have dropped my croissant!" while shaking his fist.

And I could have not broken my nose. Thanks for nothing you meanie McMeanPants!

Pablo stuck out his tongue at the rude man in a business suit, and I didn't have the heart to correct him. Honestly, if I were his age, I'd have done the same thing. But apparently people frown upon adults who stick their tongues out at rude strangers.

We were at the door of the bakery when I noticed Mr. Less-Handsome-by-the-Minute and his colleague round the corner of the street. The other exit of the park! Of course! Why am I this smart?

In that moment, fear took over, and I forgot all about Pablo — I know, I know... please don't tell anyone. Running for my life seemed like the best option, but my trip quickly became more literal and less metaphorical as I found my face crashing straight into the pavement. My attempt at freedom had been embarrassingly short lived, and I felt a hand hold me down from behind.

"Once again, Ma'am. You are under arrest."

Yeah, yeah. I know.