Happy New Year

'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a garment would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibble, the eggnog I'd taste,
At those holiday parties went straight to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
I walked to the shop (less a walk than a lumber),
And thought of the marvelous 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 that I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
When I put on my extra-large 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 the winter disguised as a man!"
So away with the last of the sour cream dip!
Go, fruitcake! Go, cookies! Go, cracker and chips!

Each last bit of food that I like must be banished
'Till all the additional kilos have vanished.
I won't have that ice cream, not even a lick,
I'll chew only on a long celery stick.

I won't have choc biscuits, or white 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!