The part where I should get all offended but don't because I know deep down he's absolutely freakin right

As you read this, I am snuggled under a blanket, sipping hot water with honey and lemon, hopped up on cough syrup. A vapourizer huffs and puffs beside me. By the end of the day, the house will likely smell of sickness - a smell I can't stand. I have had some sort of cold virus all week, which has led to my first ever case of laryngitis. Hold up...before you leave, this isn't going to be one of those posts (or uber long Facebook statuses) outlining all of my symptoms and lamenting on all of the things I cannot do because I am sick. I'm not asking for your sympathy (hell, I know I've got that already, what with all my secret posts about the man who has led me to believe he's my father.) 

So here I am, all full of laryngitis. Yesterday, I woke up feeling a little hoarse (as opposed to feeling a little horse, which would have been way cooler.) My dad came to visit and commented on how ridiculous I sounded with my "new laugh" - a high-pitched yet throaty squeak.

"Stop laughing like that," he demanded. "You sound silly." 

"I think I sound kinda sexy," I relented. "I wish my voice always sounded like this. Now where do you want to go next? Home Depot? The book store? We've got a lot of shopping to do and then we have to go home and hang my flower baskets and put up my new curtains and I have to put fresh sheets on the bed. What do you want to talk about now? Have you heard about Fifty Shades of Grey? It's this super-erotic new book that everyone's talking about. I think I'm going to buy a copy."

This morning, the Universe is telling me to just go ahead and shut the hell up.

The only sound able to cross my lips is a whisper. According to Dr. Internet, I have acute laryngitis, and I should try to rest my vocal chords today - not even whisper. Which also means no coughing, singing, reciting poetry, or yelling at my teammates during the softball game tonight. Do you have any IDEA how hard this is for me?

You know who's going to be sitting pretty though? The roomate. 

After waking up this morning and making the startling discovery that I was temporarily mute, I texted him to tell him the tragic news.

Me: OMG. It's gotten worse. I can't talk at all now. NO SOUNDS WHATSOEVER.

Him: OMG. DREAMS DO COME TRUE!

You guys? You know that Honeymoon Period, which usually lasts from the first three to six months of a new relationship, causing everything to appear rosy and no harsh words to be spoken between two lovers?

I think ours is officially over.