In the middle of the night I am awakened by a sound. I sit up abruptly in bed. I hear it again. It's music. Wait, it sounds like the ice cream man, in our house. Is this some kind of twisted nightmare? The flipping ice cream man, breaking in to chop us all up in our beds to the tune of 'Zip pity Do Day'?... My heart slows. I remember. There is no psycho ice cream man here. It is just our new musical soap dispenser...

The Fortunes of Indigo Skye