Small children are good sources of witty remarks. I still remember some of my godchildren’s odd comments when told of something they literally did not understand (or failed to discern the figurative meaning).
When told that we evolved from monkeys, Hans, then aged 5, vehemently argued, “No, not true. I came out from my mother’s _ _ _ _ _!” (womb?)
When told about illegal aliens, Jaypee, then aged 8, said, “Ah, that’s why we hardly see their spaceships.”
When told people go to heaven when they die, Elvis, then aged 7, dissented, “Dead people go to cemeteries.”
When told that God is everywhere, Mel, then aged 6, glanced around and asked, “Where?”
When told about Santa Claus, Vincent, then aged 6, shook his head and said, “He is my father.”
Lately, when I told them there will be no Christmas this year, most of them who are five years older, held their breaths and asked, “What the matter, Ninong (godfather)? Are you broke?”
I rest my case. 😀