Donatello guards the soap
Today is desperately in need of a non sequitur, so let us consider for a moment Donatello, the scientific brains of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle operation, and his current role, guarding the soap in the upstairs bathroom in my parents' house. Donatello stands, bo staff clenched, gritting his teeth, always ready for action, no matter how many drops of toothpaste rain down on him and dry ignominiously on his face, no matter how badly the wall behind him deteriorates or disintegrates. He will not abandon his post.
What is he guarding the soap from, one might wonder. Certainly not from us, the members of the Williams family who use that soap. It is our house—clearly he guards it for us. From the ladybugs then, perhaps, who seem to have set up a colony on that side of the house, in the bathroom and in my bedroom (there is a never-ending supply of them on the window next to my bed, where Allison sleeps, the wind whipping against her face). But the ladybugs have no interest in soap, and anyway there are also several other unguarded soaps nearby that they could could crawl across if they really wanted to.
Perhaps Donatello guards the soap from whatever creature unscrews the toothpaste cap in the middle of the night, leaving the tube oozing onto the counter and yet also slightly dry and crusty in the morning. Or perhaps from the mysterious spirit who unplugs the bathroom nightlight in the middle of the night, during precisely the time when a nightlight should be plugged in—during the only time, in fact, that it matters. But actually I'm sure my father is the culprit in both of these cases. I suspect that on one hand he leaves the cap off the toothpaste out of negligence, but that on the other hand he has a very specific reason for unplugging the nightlight before going to bed. Perhaps after reading this he will explain it to me. I've never mentioned it before—or perhaps I have a hundred times, and we've both just forgotten about it...