“Eat my foot.”
“Do the robot.”
“Stand right there for the morning.” (i.e., stand in the doorway all night long)
“Get me my eggs and ketchup.”
“Go get a book. I stay here in the big bed.”

This is all usually accompanied by princely pointing or, at minimum, Imperious Tone. I guess I can’t let him get away with it for long.

I also realized when I was holding him and singing “Twinkle Twinkle” last night that his little foot came all the way down to the middle of my thigh. Sigh.