My son was 2 at the time, and I'd corrected him when he occasionally said, "I hate (broccoli for example) "No, honey, you prefer green beans." And so it went, until the day when he'd grown a tiny bit more than he had realized, and when the ball rolled away, he ran and grabbed it, then standing upright, banging his head on the underside of a very solid dining table that he'd been able to stand up under before... I saw the look as he sat heavily, gasping for breath, face turning red... I rushed over and hugged my baby, just before the wail I knew was coming, saying, "Oh, I hate when that happens!"
My little darling wailed, "When what happens?!"
I replied, "When I bang my head on something hard"
His wail quieted somewhat, with, "No, you prefer something cushy!"

Another time Rob was almost 4 and we'd read to him for some time, increasingly advanced books, such as Moby Dick and various pirate and cowboy stories far beyond Dick & Jane stuff. (he's 30 now) One day we took a trip to a nearby tourist attraction in the Florida Keys, where stray cats apparently hung out.
One was standing on a rock by the pool as the naturalist swished the hunk of fish in the water, talking about the sharks there. The cat reached out a paw, swiping at the fish meal, drawing a few chuckles from the crowd. As a nurse shark came up from below, opening its purse-like mouth, water was sucked in, with some splashing on the cat, as the hunk of fish was sucked into its maw abruptly.
The cat jumped back from the close call, and my son turned to me, excitedly exclaiming, "The cat recoiled in horror!" Finally, he'd seen this in action personally.
And once I got some insight into his dad's language when driving - that is until I related the story to him, and he curbed the talk. We were turning left out of a busy shopping center, and I looked anxiously and somewhat exasperatedly from side to side, awaiting an opening. My son, 2 plus, looked with me. "Go after that asshole", came the sage advice (!?) Stunned, I started at my baby son. "That's what dad calls them." My reply was simply, "Who?", to which he said, "You know the other drivers". OK Dad, let's tone it down a bit shall we...
So then I tell my hubby, who says, "Oh, he never really listens when I'm not talking to him..." Yeah, well maybe he does, lol
I think it was Barbra Streisand, "The Children Listen", Especially when we're not talking to them