Twas the Month After Christmas…

‘Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I’d nibbled, even tho’ just a “taste”

At the holiday parties, had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!

When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).

I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese

Never saying  “No thank you” only “yes please.”

As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt

And prepared once again to do battle with dirt

I said to myself, as I only can

“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”

So away with the last of the sour cream dip

Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip!

Every last bit of food that I like

must be banished

Til all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie–not even a lick.

I’ll want only to chew a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,

I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore— But isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year and to all a good diet!

(author unknown)