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Monday, January 5, 2009

The Month After Christmas

'Twas the Month After Christmas (with apologies to Clement Moore)

'Twas the month after Christmas and all thru the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd tasted
At 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 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 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 the winter disguised as a man!"
So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker, every chip.
Every last bite 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 warm biscuits, or cornmeal 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.

3 comments:

hippo chick said...

Faye, Jim and I went back on our Weight Watcher's Food Plan (not diet) on Monday. YUK!! We'll survive, I'm sure.

~hippo hugs~

Deb M in BC :) said...

This is hilarious, Faye! Where did you get it?

Cheryl Wray said...

Ha ha!!! I LOVE it....and SO true!!