Twas 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'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 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'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 I only 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

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 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, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

 

Author Unknown

Hahahahaha! Be Blessed!