<p>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.</p>
<p>When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).</p>
<p>I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,</p>
<p>The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”</p>
<p>As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt</p>
<p>I said to myself, as I only can
“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”</p>
<p>So away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip</p>
<p>Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.</p>
<p>I won’t have a cookie - not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.</p>
<p>I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.</p>
<p>I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore
But isn’t that what January is for?</p>
<p>Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!</p>