Holy crap!
Can you believe it?
My beloved Christian has lost his ability to speak!
He can't make a sound. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out. That's the exact opposite of what happens when I open MY mouth.
Um... am I sharing too much?
So I take him to see his personal physician, Dr. Bombay.
"Doctor," I explain, "my poor husband has lost the ability to speak."
"Laryngitis?" the doctor asks.
"No," I answer. "He tries to talk, but nothing comes out. Not even a squeak."
"So, he can't make a sound, eh?" he says to me but is looking at Christian, who shakes his head no.
"Can you help him?" I beseech, beseechingly.
"Of course I can," Dr. Bombay says, making me feel immediately better.
He turns his attention to Christian.
"Open wide and say 'ah,'" he instructs.
Christian does the best he can, but can only accomplish half of what he was instructed. I can see tears well up in his eyes from the frustration he's feeling.
Dr. Bombay examines my husband.
"Mmhmm, mmhmm, mmhmm," he mms and then hmms. "I don't see anything."
"Is it hopeless?" I ask, saying the words Christian would have if he could have.
"Let me try something," Dr. Bombay says to me, then tells my husband, "Take your penis out and lay it on the table."
Christian's eyes grow wide. He looks at me and then back at his physician.
"Trust me," the doctor says.
So Christian does.
He unzips his fly, pulls out his penis—still impressive in his time of trial and tribulation—and lays it reverently on the table.
The doctor eyes it closely, then reaches for the little rubber mallet he normally uses to check a patient's knee reflexes, and—WHACK!—smacks Christian HARD on his poor little peepee.
"AAAAAAAAH!" Christian cries out.
"Very good," Dr. Bombay says, pleased with himself. "Now, come back tomorrow and we'll work on the Bs."