Now is not the time to rest on your laurels, it is time to go on the offensive. I suggest having one of your military electronics experts enter her office at night and hide some tiny speakers in the light fixture in the ceiling, connected to an impossible to find endless loop cassette player, which will play, over and over and over the following lyrics:
: I like bread and butter,
: I like toast and jam,
: That's what my baby feeds me,
: I'm her loving man.
: He likes bread and butter,
: he likes toast and jam,
: That's what his baby feeds him,
: he's her loving man.
: She don't cook mashed potatoes,
: she don't cook T-bone steaks,
: Don't feed me peanut butter,
: she knows that I can't take.
: He likes bread and butter,
: he likes toast and jam,
: That's what his baby feeds him,
: he's her loving man.
: Got home early one morning,
: much to my surprise,
: She was eating chicken and dumplings
: with some other guy.
: No more bread and butter,
: no more toast and jam,
: I found my baby eating
: with some other man.
You could also leave the song on her answering machine and put an 8 track of it in her car 8 track player. That should square things up nicely.