“I’m singin’ in the shower. Just singin’ in the shower!” “Laa laa laa. It’s a beautiful feelin’.’”
Sandra Yates had been covering her head with her pillow trying to get some rest but her husband Timothy was, once again, on one of his sleep walk sessions, once again, and in his favourite spot, the shower.
”Right, that’s enough,” She said to herself, “I’ve been holding it in too long. I’m going to have a word with him or else I think I’ll go mad!”
“Oh no! How did I get in here, Sandra? Look, I’m in my pyjamas in the shower!”
Timothy had woken from his sleepwalk, all wet. He dried himself and entered the bedroom. Sandra patted on the bed, ushering him to sit next to her.
“Look, honey nugget, there’s something I need to tell you. Now I know it might come across as a big blow to you, but I feel it would be wrong to hide it.”
Timothy sat down next to her and listened to her very carefully.
“You…you’ve been sleep walking.”
“Oh, that’s silly, sugar puff, how is that possible?”
“It’s true, Timothy.”
“And may I ask how long this has been going on?”
“None months.” “Timothy, I’m going to book an appointment with the g.p.”
Timothy held her hands and nodded in agreement.
Later that evening, at Dr. Jones’ surgery.
“Ah, long time no see, Mr and Mrs Yates. How can I help you?”
“It’s my husband,” replied Sandra, “he gets up during the night and sleep walks to the shower and then starts to sing out aloud.”
Timothy flinched. He was hearing this dialogue for the first time.
“Sandra, please.” She turned to him apologetically. Dr Jones began to jot down notes.
“Tell me, how long has this been going on and how often?”
“Well, it started nine months back, and he does it every, ooh let’s say, every three to five days.”
“Hmm.” “Can you tell me what does he sing?”
Sandra’s eyes widened. “But what difference does that make, doctor Jones?”
“On the contrary, Mrs Yates; it might give us an insight into the inspiration behind it.”
“Well, it sounded like that song from Singin’ in the rain, but he calls it Singin’ in the shower!”
“Hmm.” Said Dr Jones, making more notes. He then turned to Timothy.
“Mr Yates, when did you last watch t.v and what are your favourite movies?”
“Well, I’m a big fan of Gene Kelly. I don’t miss a single one of his films. What a wonderful actor he was.”
“Ah!” Said Dr Jones. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He made some more notes and then jotted down a prescription and handed it to Mrs Yates.
“What’s this?” She queried.
“I’ve prescribed a tonic to help your husband get a proper sleep. And let me know how you get along; the both of you.” He shook hands with Timothy and they left.
Sandra wasted no time and collected the medicine from the chemist and fed Timothy one tablespoon before they slept.
Later that night…
“I’m singin’ in the shower, just singin’ in the shower! Oh what a beautiful lfeelin’, I’m laughing out loud. Just singin’ and…”
“Stop it at once!!!” Screamed Sandra. But he was oblivious to her. He stood in the shower base with the warm water pouring all over his pyjamas. Sandra reached for the taps and turned them off but even then, Timothy kept singing.
“Oh what a wonderful feelin’.” He suddenly held her in his arms and began dancing around the bathroom with her.
“Let me go! Le me go!” She tried to break free. He made her do a twirl and then released her. She ran out into the safety of the bedroom. It was too early to ring Dr. Jones.
“If this doen’t stop, I’m going to have to call a psychiatrist.” In desperation, she reached for the tonic.
“I know; I’ll give him a second dose.” She carefully poured it into a glass this time and re-entered the bathroom.
“Timothy, it’s time for your tonic, honey nugget.” He wasn’t there. Suddenly he pounced from behind her and snatched the glass and in a blink of an eye, poured it into his wife’s mouth.
“Eeeuucchh!!” What have you done!?”
“I’m just singin’ and dancin’ in the rain.” He took a bow and returned to bed. It was 5.20am and Sandra dared to go to lay beside him and both fell asleep.
Next day, there was a big argument during breakfast.
“Did you have a good night’s sleep, sugar puff?” Asked Timothy, innocently. She was sulking.
“I hope I wasn’t singing Gene Kelly again. Hah ha ha.” Said Timothy, munching his cornflakes. “I wonder if Gene Kelly ate cornflakes for breakfast? Hmm.”
Sandra grabbed the kitchen towel and tossed it at Timothy’s face.
“If you so much as mention Gene Kelly’s name JUST ONE MORE TIME, then I’m leaving this house!” She stormed out of the kitchen. Timothy scratched his head in confusion.
“I wonder why she’s so upset?” He finished off his breakfast.
That night, Timothy remembered to take his tonic before retiring to bed.
“One to be taken three times a day, or thrice. Ha ha haa.”
Sandra had her ear-plugs on and lay beside him. Both fell asleep. It was 10.45 p.m.
For a few hours, everything was quiet and peaceful and it appeared that Dr Jone’s tonic had finally started having a positive effect on Timothy. Suddenly, there was the sound of running water and Timothy awoke from his sleep.
“Sandra? Where are you. I’m sorry if I upset you, sugar puff!” “Sandra?” He approached the bathroom and slowly opened the door.
“I’m singin’ in the shower, just singin’ in the shower, it’s a beautiful feelin’ I’m happy again.”
There she stood, in the shower-base with the water pouring over her night dress. Somehow the dose of Timothy’s tonic had had an odd effect on her and she was sleep-singing too. Timothy paused a moment and then smiled and approached her. Sandra placed her arms around his shoulders and they both started singing simultaneously, dancing the rest of the night away in a wet and memorable night, and one of many more which were to follow.
“We’re just singin’ and dancin’ in the shower.”