bright and shiny

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He sits in the corner, sparkling merrily, a twinkle in his eyes. He twirls and spins, softly, then heartily, reaching a crescendo before tiptoeing silently away. And then he returns - almost immediately - the silence becoming a faint tinkle, which itself becomes a whirling dervish of excitement. Bright lights follow him wherever he goes, green numbers counting down the minutes till his end. Yet it will not be the end end. Tomorrow, or the next day, he will dance again. When he is spent, and all his spinning has exhausted him, he sings a merry little tune. Then he unlocks the door and away he goes, leaving a giant silver carcass awaiting his return. I mean, seriously, whoever heard of a washing machine singing to tell you it's completed its cycle!? Oh, we bought a new washer-dryer and he was delivered today. I can't stop gazing at him in admiration and wonder. I think I may even have a bit of a crush on him. He even has his own app! Oh my goodness! I am now officially middle-aged ... there is only so much excitement a lady can take, and today's was kindly provided by a new kitchen appliance. I hereby prescribe a day at the seaside tomorrow, in an effort to rediscover my inner-child.