T’was The Month After Christmas

T’was the month 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,
All 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 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 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 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.

Author Unknown

SOURCE: via my Email INBOX .. although, variations of this poem has been popping up around Bulletin Boards and the internet since approximately 1988