Here's To You Mrs. Robinson

It's 10:00AM. Do you know what your stomach is doing? It may not be out carousing with that questionable teenager smoking refer and sucking face behind a dumpster, even though that is what those scared straight TV commercials want you to believe. But your stomach does have a problem - it's grumbling. Because you were running late for work, you've deprived it of it's morning breakfast fuel. Now you are suffering the consequences as it strikes up ill mannered chit-chat in your AM meeting. These aren't the type of pleasantries you wish to exchange with your boss or co-workers. However, don't fear...Mrs. Robinson is near! Yes, she is my office superhero. A woman bearing baked goods. A woman who wears "Mom jeans" and spends countless hours smoothing out her "bingo hair". Don't know what bingo hair is? Well, then it's obvious you need to work with me for a day and experience a slew of new phrases.

In the case of Mrs. Robinson, the way to my heart
really was thru my stomach.

Mrs. Robison is my hero, seriously. She saves me nearly everyday. Ok, she doesn't save me, but she does rescue my stomach. She is there to aid it's grumbles in a time of need. She magically appears around a corner wall as if she has Superman x-ray vision that foresees a hungry boy crying for help. She is there to nourish my innards like no other woman before her has ever done...except my Mom. She is there to give me that loving motherly advice, warn me about safety and nag me about such things like getting to a doctor to see if I really broke or fractured my finger last weekend. (Long story short, I dislocated it at the middle knuckle playing basketball and had to pop it back into place. It tickled.)

In offices across America, women are making work a better place to be. Every single business I've ever worked for, the girls always bring in goodies. You never see a dude with a candy jar on his desk, but women ALWAYS have them. Take a look around your office. Maybe you are that girl! If you are, let me know because I want to be your friend! (hee-hee) Guys I can't stress this enough. At work you must, must befriend a woman who brings in treats. Do it immediately, if not sooner. You will thank me for it. Trust me. She will be your lifeline when hunger strikes and it strikes me pretty much all day long. If you are lucky like me, then Mrs. Robinson is just a few cubicals away. I think I have a hollow leg or maybe tapeworm because I can eat and an hour later I'm hungry again. Maybe I'm just a growing boy, still? No big deal though because I burn it all off. Then all I need to do is refill the tank and thanks to Mrs. Robinson, I keep her topped off.

Today marks the end of an era. Sad news - Mrs. Robinson is retiring. Yes, I'm heartbroken to see her go and believe me, my stomach will mourn the lose for some time. I want to say thanks once again to my office superhero. She can bake brownies like nobody's business. She can mix that batter with one arm tied behind her back and the other placing a little marker over G-15 on her Bingo card. The passing down of the tourch/wooden spoon is inevitable. However, I don't think anyone can master such a tool like she did. She will be sorely missed. As a final tribute, I wanted to give Mrs. Robinson a departing gift since she has given me so much. I thought about baking something for her, but then there is no need to punish a good woman. She need not be tortured by my caveman-like cooking skills. So I will spare her the pain and suffering. Instead, I'll sing her a song. Yes, I know I can't sing either, but I can write the lyrics and hum! So here's to you Mrs. Robinson. A rewrite of a Simon and Garfunkel song from your era. I hope you enjoy your retirement time and my tummy will never forget your double chocolate chunk brownies. Still gooey and warm, baked with love that you could taste in every bite. Even the tiny crumbs I cherished.

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson,
David loves you more than you will know.
God bless you, please Mrs. Robinson.
My stomach holds a place for you today,
Hey, hey, hey.