"Have you thought a plan yet?" I asked impatiently.

"No. Stop asking. I will tell you if I do," Dad snapped. We had been in here for an hour and I was growing antsy. I wanted to do something exciting. Action-packed. I wasn't the type for settling down and watching telly or reading. I liked excitement.

"This is lame," I complained.

"Be patient," he told me. I rolled my eyes. "Whatever," I said, and sat down and began brushing my hair. I liked my hair. It was dirty blonde, curly, and long.

 "How many do you think there are?" he asked.

I shrugged. "A hundred? Approx?" I guessed.

"Hmm," Dad said. Then he snapped his fingers. "I got it!" he cried.

"Now?!" I snapped. "Seriously?!"

"Shut it. Sometimes it takes me awhile,"

"Yeah. Awhile meaning an hour and a half," I snorted. He glared at me.

"The plan is we sneak past them, get to their ship(hoping there is one, of course), fix it so that they can only go in between the parallel universes, and and we hide. Once they think we're gone, they'll go back to their ship, fly away, and get stuck," he looked at me. "Good plan?"

"Yeah, but then they find us, or there's no ship, or we can't get in, or-"

"Or you could think positive and stop thinking about possible flaws and just go with it. How about that?" Dad interrupted.

"-Or there are Daleks in the ship, assuming there is one," I finished. Then I looked at him. "Then what?"

"If they notice us, we're dead. But as I said before, think positive and not about the possible flaws and just go with the plan!" he snapped.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine! Whatever," I muttered.