jujube
SF VIP
I wish I could claim to have written this, but alas I can't. Someone sent this to me and I have to pass it on:
'TWAS THE MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS
'Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibble, the eggnog I'd taste
All the holiday goodies had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scale, there arose such a number!
And I walked through the house, less a walk than a lumber.
I remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared,
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls, the breads and the cheese.
And the fact that I'd never said, "No, thank-you, please!"
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt,
and prepared to do battle with post-Christmas dirt.
As I said to myself (as only I can),
"You can't spend the year disguised as a man!"
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
And get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip.
Every morsel of food that I love must be banished,
Until every extra pound has vanished.
I won't taste a cookie, not even a lick.
I vow to chew only on a celery stick.
I won't have biscuits or cornbread or pie,
I'll chew on a carrot and silently cry.
I'm hungry, and lonesome, and life is a bore,
but isn't that what January's for?
Unable to laugh and no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet.
'TWAS THE MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS
'Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibble, the eggnog I'd taste
All the holiday goodies had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scale, there arose such a number!
And I walked through the house, less a walk than a lumber.
I remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared,
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls, the breads and the cheese.
And the fact that I'd never said, "No, thank-you, please!"
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt,
and prepared to do battle with post-Christmas dirt.
As I said to myself (as only I can),
"You can't spend the year disguised as a man!"
So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,
And get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip.
Every morsel of food that I love must be banished,
Until every extra pound has vanished.
I won't taste a cookie, not even a lick.
I vow to chew only on a celery stick.
I won't have biscuits or cornbread or pie,
I'll chew on a carrot and silently cry.
I'm hungry, and lonesome, and life is a bore,
but isn't that what January's for?
Unable to laugh and no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet.
