Twas the week after Christmas

Thanks to my mom for sending this to me, who got it from my Uncle George. Enjoy!!

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 stores (less a walk, more a lumber)

I remembered the marvelous meals I'd prepared.

The gravies and sauces and meats nicely rared,

The wine and rum balls, the bread and the cheese.

And the way I never said "No thank you please."

As I dressed myself in my husbands 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 additional ounces have vanished.

I won't have a cookie, not even a lick,

I'll want only to chew on a celery stick.

I won't have hot biscuits or cornbread or pie,

I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I'm hungry, Im 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!