T'was 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 nibbled, the eggnog I taste,

At the holiday parties had gone to my waste.

When I got to the scales, there arose such a number!

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

I 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,

And the way I never said, "No 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 disquised as a man".

So--away with the last of sour cream dip,

Get rid of the fruitcake, crackers, and chip.

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished.

'Til all the additional ounces has 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 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 want January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,

Happy new Year to all, and to all a good diet!

author: unknown