I don't know if I've been entirely fair to you.
You are not merely a little package of rage. It's just that Mommy is very tired and you raged this morning in the car because I wouldn't unbuckle you and let you out IMMEDIATELY whilst I was driving. You raged when I changed your diaper and wouldn't let you rub Taggie on your diaper-cream-coated testes. You raged when I put you down at Grandma's because I had to go to work.
I know you're frustrated and don't understand all of Mommy's rules. But I assure you, they aren't really that many and 90% of them are just safety concerns. The other 10% are basic manners...like sitting at a table to eat, no hitting, and not rubbing your privates with stuff.
You are still my wonderful little boy whom I adore.
You are the little boy who will actually turn the TV channels to opera because you want the music.
You are the little boy who likes to dance and sing at the drop of a hat.
You are the little boy who will clap for Mommy when she does anything that you find amazing, from merely *almost* falling (but not quite) to dribbling a ball to playing the flute.
You are a wonderous little boy.
One day you'll understand why the drier isn't a fort and life will become a little easier for you.