The Wee One doesn't like Veggie Tales, believe it or not.
He
loves Disney movies, and we've gotten him the old cartoon ones off e-bay so we don't have to buy them from Disney and support their, ah,
countercultural enterprises.

He loves
The Jungle Book, and
The Aristocats, and
Robin Hood; his two current faves seem to be
Winnie the Pooh's Christmas and
Pocahontas. I'm not wild on
Pocahontas myself, mainly because it's PC and paints the Europeans in a bad light (of course), and because Pocahontas looks more like a Filipino Playboy bunny than a Native American princess; but he's too young to know the difference anyway.
But while I'm picking things up from his movies, he's picking things up from me, too---I've been known to go around singing,
"Well, I'm the king of the swingers, oh, the jungle VIP....", or
"Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities...."; but the other day a car backfired outside, and the Wee One yelled "Incoming!", just as natural as you please.
Mommy and I just looked at each other. I admit to calling that out when loud noises occur (you pick it up once you've actually been under artillery fire), but it never dawned on me that he'd pick it up from me.
He has also been observed stomping his way up and down the driveway in his hiking boots, chanting
"Hup, two, free, four, hadda goo'home buhya lef!", which he got from me as well.
(shrug) I guess it's better than him picking up swear words. I do watch my language around him.