"Who's invading what?"
"Martians invading Earth—well, not exactly Martians. They're—I don't know. From up." She pointed with her spoon.
"And inside," said Mom, touching Mink's feverish brow.
Mink rebelled. "You're laughing! You'll kill Drill and everybody."
"I didn't mean to," said Mom. "Drill's a Martian?"
"No. He's—well—maybe from Jupiter or Saturn or Venus. Anyway, he's had a hard time."
"I imagine." Mrs. Morris hid her mouth behind her hand.
"They couldn't figure a way to attack earth."
"We're impregnable," said Mom, in mock-seriousness.
"That's the word Drill used! Impreg—That was the word, Mom."