Husband: "So, what do you think of the pizza? Do you like it?"
"Yeah, it's good. Smells like fart."
My husband and I stare at her, trying to connect the two sentences in our heads to have them make any kind of sense together. If something I'm about to eat smells like fart, that's where the attempt to eat ends.
J5.9 looks between the two of us and says, "What? I just farted."
I kid you not. And yes, that will be going into a story of mine at some point.