WAS THE NIGHT AFTER CHRISTMAS....          - 22/ 1/ 2006      <--Prev : Next-->


'Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The stuffing I'd nibbled, the turkey I'd taste

The yummies I'd eaten gone straight to my waist.

The wine and mince pies,

The bread and the cheese

I should have just said, "No thank you, please."

So as I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt,

I couldn't believe my bottom and belly- the girth!

I said to myself, as only I can,

"You can't spend the year disguised as a man!"

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

Get rid of the fruitcake, 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.

Instead I'll chew on a long celery stick.

I won't have Irish coffees, or chocolates, or pie,

I'll munch on a carrot and quietly I'll cry:

"I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore-

But isn't that what January's for?"

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,

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