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, the eggnog I would 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 it was less a walk than a lumber.
        I remembered the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
        The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rare.

        The wine and the rum balls, 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 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 chew only on long celery sticks.

        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, life's no longer a riot.
        Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

[ Author Unknown -- from 'Heartwarmers' ( ]


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