'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd 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 remembered the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The cocoa and fudge balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I always said, "Yes, thank you, 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 only I 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 toffee, every cracker and chip
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
'Till all the additional poundage has vanished.
I won't have a cookie--not even a lick.
I'll only just chew on 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 to all and to all a good diet!