Spoiled Rotten Rabbit

My kids are grown and on to their own adventures in adulthood, and to avoid becoming the pining, "budinski mom," I got a baby bunny as a pet. Otis has been such a joy to my husband and I, but I must say he is spoiled beyond belief! At 4:30 in the morning my husband arises and goes to Otis's cage to free him to the kitchen. Once he is gently placed on the floor and the gate is in place, he sits by his empty glass bowl and stares at the fridge. Before pouring his morning coffee, my husband doles out Otis's six blueberries. We have tried to introduce other fruits for a little variety, but often he will take the glass bowl with offending fruit in his mouth, and toss it across the room. Then he will literally dive into his litter box, sending litter flying in all directions, and sulk. We've learned that it is just easier to give him what he wants. When I come down to the kitchen, I usually greet Otis with a husky endearment while bending down to stroke his silky ears. My husband is trained to let me know if Otis was good or bad getting out of the cage, and if he ate his blueberry breakfast. Once satisfied that my little "bunny boy" has been taken care of, then I can kiss my mate and pour my coffee. Me and Otis hang out most of the day, he lounging in his big fancy cat litter box, nibbling straw now and again ( his rabbit potty box is kept hidden in the corner, as he is shy about doing his business in public) and me talking and singing to him. When he was a bit younger, I could not  figure out why he would "go" in the litter box and then pick it up with his teeth and dump it over. It wasn't until I bought him the big one for lounging, and the small one for "going," that he settled down. Who knew rabbits were so darned fussy?! During the day Otis has free run of the kitchen. He plays amongst the pots and pans, begs for snacky snacks (dried puffed vegetables free of artificial anything) ... but mostly he sits and meditatively stares (he's so Zen). Heaven forbid though, if I have to show the house and put him into his night-time cage... his temper is completely unleashed. First he will take the little phone book that I give him to chew on and savagely rip the pages out. Then he grabs the set of jingle bells (one of his toys), and bashes them against the side of the cage making a terrible racket. From there he scratches and digs through the bedding  and then pushes it around his cage in all directions. It's as if he is purposely trying to dirty the surrounding floor. I try to soothingly talk him out of his rage, but usually I give in and entice him with an extra scoop of his malty kibble. He will hop on his eating shelf and munch furiously, while giving me the icy stare. Once the cage is in lock down, I bravely state to him, "now you just sit there and think about what you've done!" I just hope my grown kids don't see me when I am scolding Otis like that, as they would probably accuse me of going soft in my old age.