‘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 
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 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!