Week after Christmas
Twas the week after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibble, the eggnog I’d taste
All 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 marvellous meals I’d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared…
The wine and the rumballs, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’d never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
And prepared once again to battle the dirt…
I said to myself, as I only can
"You can’t spend a winter dressed like 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
‘Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick,
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I won’t have hot biscuits, or scones, or a 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 Years to All and to All a Good Diet …