The anklet ghost complaining about the wrist placement puts her on the same level as the "bloody fingers" skeleton asking for a bandaid or the cannibal who complains that a clown "tasted a little funny."
The people talking about death made my heart drop, I was so entranced by the sweetness that I forgot that real word tragedies still apply to happy stories. Quite a shame really, I'll just try to forget about the possibility and read on though.