A Special Post Holiday Lament
'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!
So 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 wine and the chocolates; 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 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 fruit cake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished,
'til 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 corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, it's cold, and life is a chore,
But isn't that what all January is for?
Unable to nibble, I won't even try it.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!
Christmas Index
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