“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!”