A puzzle piece shaped lump of coal for me.

I am spent. My days are spent cataloguing the already bought gifts, wrapped and tagged as well as the yet to be purchased ones, and the strategy for obtaining these items. I feel like the clock is ticking. My son is really stressing me out. Big time.
Tonight bubs was in the tub, for a really long time. I was hanging out with him and he had a bunch of his sea creatures in a tupperware container. It was also filled with water and perched anxiously on the ledge of the tub. I proceeded to explain to bubs that this was a no go. We couldn't spill the water all over the floor. He appeared to understand me. I went out of the bathroom, but still hovered close by. I hear the lovely sound of water gushing and then a little voice say 'uh oh, I am sorry'. Mind you, I am glad bubs has manners but he says 'I'm sorry' a lot, and only some of the time does he actually mean it. Water was every where. I didn't get mad, and I was proud of myself for that because I am really shot right now. I proceeded to clean up using every available towel. I told bubs bath time was over. He wasn't being a good listener and he had to get out of the tub. At this point my sweet child was taken over by a crazed demon spirit. I couldn't get him out of the tub without hurting him and myself. So I took out all of the toys. He then grabbed the bath mat and threw it in the tub. Ok, I am starting to get a little mad now. The rug was already sopping wet, I threw it in the sink and I grabbed the drenched bath mat. I walked out of the bathroom but stayed right outside the door. I was hoping he would calm down. No such luck. He wanted his bath toys, so he got out of the tub and then I scooped him up and placed him in the living room. He started screaming and yelling and hitting me. Luckily we still have the safety gate up in this room so I closed it up and buckled down in the next room. It really unnerves me. First of all poor bubs was naked and pacing back and forth screaming about wanting to go back into the tub. I did my best planned ignoring yet again. Perhaps my best isn't good enough. This went on for, oh, an eternity. The whole time I started freaking out. What the hell is going on here? I am seriously worried that some kind of new 'behavior' is popping up here and I just start envisioning bubs as a teenager having these kinds of episodes, ugh, it truly is dark and awful. It's like all the good stuff goes poof in an instant.Finally I sensed a lull. He told me he wanted out and in my calm zombie voice I told him I would come in and sit with him. He climbed up into my lap and I hugged him. I hugged him to comfort him as well as myself. He let me put his pajamas on and we went up to bed as if nothing ever happened.
Is it too much sugar? Is it an autism thing? Do four year olds typically throw crazy tantrums? Is it too much santa talk? Ask again later.