Raising your kids without teaching them any compound words and making sure to use “of” in every sentence hasn’t been easy but, by god, you’ve done all a parent can do.
“Father, may I perform the jumping of the rope, please?” your daughter asks you.
“Of course, dear,” you respond gently. You love the air of formality given off by the necessary sentence structure of a complete dearth of compounds.
Making sure you’re in earshot of your child, you ask your wife if it is “the time of the dinner” yet. Needless extra prepositions get your wife super hot, so you know you’re going to get some later tonight.
“It will not be long, my love,” your wife tells you. “Tonight we are having breast of chicken and a medley of vegetables.” You can hear the slight trembles of excitement in her voice as she makes her sentences pointlessly complicated. You’re feeling a bit randy yourself.
Your daughter runs into the room. “Father, father! I performed one hundred of the jumps without tripping on the rope of jumping!”
You tell your daughter you are proud of her and hug her tightly. For no reason at all, your family breaks into joyous laughter.
In the next apartment over, separated by only a paper thin wall, your neighbor calls for an ambulance because he is once again “hearing the voices.” When your family erupts in laughter, he screams until they take him away.