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!