That, My Dear Little One, Is Karma

Me: Rollie, get over here, so I can check your diaper.
Rollie: [petulantly] No! [Runs away from me.]
Me: You have until three. If I get to three . . . [turning to see where he went]
[Very loud sound of head hitting table.]

That, my dear, is what we call karma. It's a bitch.