'Twas the week 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!
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!