Okay...so he's been even more obsessed with ruling the world lately, but the Cave Troll proved that we all dance to his tune in spades this morning.
He's been fastening his own car seat--it takes a while, and actually helping him earns you nothing but bloody eardrums and heightened blood pressure, so I got in the front of the car and knit a few rounds on a sock while I was waiting. I saw that he was done, put the knitting down and started to back out of the driveway. I was stopped by him shrieking at me.
"What did I do now?" I asked, fairly exasperated because, let's face it, Mr. I-control-the-universe is NOT a picnic to live with.
"Yarn...yarn mom...pick up yarn...." In the rear view mirror I could see him doing the time honored "I'm pretending to do something mysterious with pointed sticks" gesture, and so I picked up my sock from the seat next to me, and suddenly the noise stopped.
"Yarn...need yarn mom," he said with serenity, and so I was allowed to drive away, holding my sock at the ready for the next stoplight, when I usually knit.
Little Man knows how to run a Universe, that's all I can say.