He stands up. Music is a good thing to cook to, flavors the broth. Music is an onion, which, in the soup, is very important. Then neither he nor Honey will sleep tonight, and that wouldn't be healthy. Sleep is so necessary, Henry thinks.
Sleep is a reason to live.
Sleep is what gets him out of bed in the morning. Wish You Were Here. Halfway back to the couch he realizes that the volume is off or all the way down. No sound at all. He stops and, stopping, remembers the onion.