T'was 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 would taste.
All the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales, there arose such a number!
My backside had become as wide as a SUV Hummer
I remembered the marvelous meals I had prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rare.
The wassail, the chocolate, the bread and the cheese.
And the way I'd never said, "None for me, 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 another winter disguised as
a man!"
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip,
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Even chocolate and cookies all need to vanish.
I won't have a cookie -- not even a lick,
I'll chew only on long, green celery sticks.
I won't have hot biscuits, or cornbread or pie,
I'll much 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, life's no longer a riot
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet.
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