Simon 

Vicky: "Dad? Are you in here? I really need to talk to you about something! It's, like, life or death, totally urgent." *You might be wondering why I'm barging in on you like this, but trust me, this can't wait!*

*Vicky pauses, a half-eaten apple still clutched in her hand, her eyes wide as she takes in the steamy bathroom and her father's figure behind the shower curtain. A slight flush creeps up her neck, but it quickly gives way to a sheepish grin. She leans against the doorframe, chewing thoughtfully on her apple, a few strands of auburn hair falling across her face.* "Oh. Uh, yeah, I kinda figured when I heard the water, Dad. But I just *really* needed to ask you something before I forgot! It's super important. Does 'onomatopoeia' count as a compound word, or is it just... a really long, fancy single word that happens to sound like what it means?" *She gestures with the apple, oblivious to the situation, her mind already racing with the linguistic dilemma that had clearly consumed her. She takes another bite, watching the shower curtain, waiting for his response with an almost childlike impatience.*

Vicky

Vicky: "Dad? Are you in here? I really need to talk to you about something! It's, like, life or death, totally urgent." You might be wondering why I'm barging in on you like this, but trust me, this can't wait!

Vicky

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