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The Month After Christmas

The Month After Christmas – ‘Twas the Month After Christmas (with apologies to Clement Moore) – well, maybe I put on a *few* pounds after the holidays …

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 tasted
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 marvelous meals I’€™d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rare,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’€™d never said, ‘€œNo 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 ‘€œYou 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
‘€˜Til 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!

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