New Years Day > Twas The Week After Christmas

Twas the Week after Christmas

Twas the Week After Christmas


Twas the week 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 wine and the rum balls,
the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said,
"No thank you, please."

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
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!


Happy New Year!