He's just odd

Tommy walks up to me, leans in really close, cups my face in his hands, and whispers, "Peeeeeeeeeeetsa."
"You want pizza?"
"Nooooooo. Meeeeeeeeeeeeelk."
"You want milk?"
"Nooooooo. Waaaaaaaaaaahyerrrrrrrrrrr."
"You want water?"
"Yessssssssssss."
I look over at the couch, at the water bottle he had to set down in order to come cup my face in his hands to ensure that I pay the utmost attention to his little toddler grocery list.  "Isn't that your water bottle right there?"
"Alright." And he walks away to go drink his water.  I have no idea what any of this accomplished.