“T’was the month after Christmas and all through the house, nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The stuffing I’d nibbled, the turkey I’d tasted, the yummies I’d eaten had gone straight to my waist. The wine, the mince pies, the bread and the cheese….. I should have just said, “no thank you, please.” .. . So as I dressed myself in my old clothes, I stood on the scales and wailed as they rose!…… I said to myself, as only I can, “you can’t spend the year disguised as a man!” … So away with the last of that sour-cream dip, get rid of the chocolates, every cracker and crisp. Every last morsel of tasty food must be banished ’til all those additional ounces have vanished. I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick, instead I’ll chew on a long celery stick. I won’t have that Danish, or chocolates, 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’s for?” Unable to giggle, no longer a riot, Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet! 😉 ♥
Thankfully of course that doesn’t apply to me as we are not going on our low fat diet until we have eaten all the goodies 🙂
Actually found another one as well, both gave me a giggle 😆
Twas 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
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 marvellous 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 I only 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 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 on 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!