An orchestra of white goods.

I have a new washing machine - no, don't rush off. This isn't a diatribe about white goods, nor a writing exercise just to prove I can write about laundry for an entire paragraph without sending you all to sleep.

Sorry - wake up there. No, my washing machine - sparkling white, undented, efficient, with clever programmes - sings to me when it has finished washing . . .

A merry tinkly tune - far too high to join in with; in fact, it is pitched so high it is almost at that point where only dogs can hear it. So high that only a toddler stung by a bee can reach it - that first, terrified cry before they take a deep breath and let out a proper bellow.

Which leaves me wondering - who thought this was a good idea? I don't want to appear all sexist about this, but somewhere a group of people (men? in suits?) sat round a table and brainstormed ideas.

'We need to find a way to make our washing machines more exciting. It's not enough that people have clean clothes. They need a complete laundry experience.'

Cue for enthusiastic clapping. 'Laundry experience,' they agree, 'is a great phrase. We must remember that.'

'How about we have different coloured machines - yellow, or stripes, or dots like Pudsey.'

'I'm not so sure. We need machines to fit in with the whole kitchen/utility room experience. So it has to be sleek and modern, and minimalistic.'

'I thought colours might be rather fun.'

Cue scowls.

'How about . . . well, I'm thinking, just brainstorming here, the washing is finished, and someone is busy with other things - cooking, looking after the baby - how will they know to sort their clothes? A little ping, perhaps? A bell chime?'

'No - a tune!!! A little song!!! That would be cheerful, and make the whole laundry experience more, well, enjoyable?'

'Hurrah, a tune, what a wonderful idea!!! Then laundry can really be fun!!!'

'Then people can have a little dance to celebrate the laundry etc.!!!'

'And let's be really clever and pitch the tune so high that they want to rip their own ears off each time it plays!!!'

I simply don't believe a woman would have done this. Nor would she condone hiding the instructions to turn it off so deep within all the little booklets that come with machines these days that anyone who with washing/cooking/cleaning to do (and some writing, or even travelling) would lose the will to live before she found it.

So, if anyone else has a new LG washing machine - any ideas? Other than soundproofing a room to hide it in?

And please - warn me of any other kitchen gadgets to avoid. I really don't need an orchestra of white goods.