When Ponzi started to feel sick earlier this week, I knew it was just a matter of time before my own throat was coated with lemon-flavored phlegm. Self-produced mucus, mind you – not hers! Oh, and “lemon-flavored” is always the hope – yet it always seems to taste like yicky-yucky. And so, as earlier reported, I can’t remember the last time I left our cruise cabin with a clear head. Seems our romantic vacation turned into a bedridden holiday all too quickly. I don’t want the honeymoon to be over, but I really can’t wait to be home again – even though I don’t yet have my own bed in which to sleep there (Thomasville has been holding it hostage or something). Call me Mr. Sniffles in the meantime, but don’t really call me because I can’t easily get to my voice mail out here in the Atlantic ocean.