My son, the dictator

I imagine this might be what Mussolini was at age 3

H: Daaaadddddyyyy, Come here!
Me: Yes?
H: I'm going poo-poo. Just put your head in and turn on the fan. It's stinky.
Me: OK
H: Now can you go away?

five minutes later....

H: Daaaaaddddd. Come here!
Me: yes?
H: Can you pick up that toilet paper?
Me: OK.
H: Now go away.

three minutes later....

H: Daaaaaaadddddyyyyy!
Me: yes?
H: Can you get me that book?
Me: OK.
H: Now go away.

One minute later....

H: Daaaadddddyy!! Pick up this book.

Just a day in the life.