My two kids say kidlarious things.
Dad: Do you want mayo or mustard on your roast beef sandwich?
Eva: Neither. I want ketchup.
Dad: You don't put ketchup on roast beef.
Eva: I do.
Eva: The baby is crawling onto the table like a belly dancer.
Mom: Belly dancer?
Eva: Yeah, belly dancers crawl on tables at the pub.
Tom: You mean a lap dancer!
While watching Star Trek.
Eva: Oh no, that elf just died.
Dad: It's a Vulcan Eva, not an elf.
Eva: This food is on my bud taste.
Mom: Taste buds Eva.
Eva is drawing a diagram and instructions for a time machine.
Eva: Dad, the time machine doesn't go back earlier than 1958.
Dad: Why not?
Eva: So you don't get eaten by dinosaurs.