T'was 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,
And the wine, and the rumballs, 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 only I 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 and chip,
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
'Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I wont have a cookie- not even a lick.
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick.
I wont 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!