'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!