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 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,
The grape juice and candies, 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
a 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
'Til all the additional ounces had vanished
I won't have a cookie—not even a lick,
I'll only want to chew a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits, or cornbread, 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!
