It was half full of Matchbox and Cars cars.
“Mommy, you take this,” he said, thrusting the pitcher at me. “Them is bad.”
“What did they do?” I asked him.
He poked the pitcher. “Them is bad.”
“Right,” I said. “They’re bad. What did they do to be bad?”
“Them steal the hidden treasure.”
Well then. There you have it. Them cars is bad.