Three going on insane

I feel as though Jack and my relationship would be so much stronger if I were just made aware of the rules of engagement.  There are so many situations that go awry because I've done something incorrectly for his three year old sensibility.  Case in point: Yesterday, on the way to to school, Jack asked me "Where da cool bus?".  That's 'where is the school bus' for all you non preschooler speakers.  We usually pass a few on our hour long commutes, and he looks forward to the sightings.  He didn't just ask it once or twice, however.  No, he asked it continuously for 23 miles with hardly a breath in all that time.  I can honestly tell you that I've never been so relieved to see a blasted school bus when one came into view and I exclaimed with delight, "JACK!  There's a school bus!"  Apparently there was a protocol that I didn't follow because he started to cry and said "Mommy, NOOOOO!"  What?  What in heaven's name did I do wrong?  If he didn't want me to point it out, why, why, WHY did he ask me where it was for 23 MILES????  After I apologized and he calmed himself down, there was this awkward silence in the car that was broken only by Kenny Chesney boasting of his farm equipment's sex appeal.  We ended up passing another school bus a few minutes later, and it caused my heart rate to speed up and my mind to race.  Do I point out the obvious, or should I act like I don't see it?  I decided to play it safe and go with the ignorance is bliss plan,  and I didn't say anything at all.  I knew within seconds of it's passing that this was the wrong coarse of action, because Jack said "MOOOOM!  Da cool bus!".  I chanced a look in the rearview mirror and saw his huge brown eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.  They seemed to ask so much- how could I NOT have seen the school bus?  Didn't I love him in the least?  These are the moments in motherhood that really need a manual.  What are the rules, and how can I get a copy?  Is it too much to ask for them to be consistent in their insanity, or do I have to wait until he is five for that?

Today he has discovered that he has a hangy-down thing in the back of his throat, and he's certain he's only got moments left to live.  All day, every half hour, he comes running and yelling with panic in his voice for me to check for mutations.  After I reassure him that all is normal, he looks at me as though I've done nothing but lie to him his entire life and goes to the bathroom to look for himself.  A few times I've heard the sound of a cat with a hair ball caught in it's throat, followed by the sound of Mitch's laughter.   Since we don't have a cat, I can only assume he's trying to remove said hangy-down thing in the operating amphitheater of the bathroom. And why should I be concerned?  If I were to remove a hangy-down thing, there's no better O.R. nurse I'd rather have than Mitch.  Cool under pressure, that's Mitch.