The week after Christmas

Trying to Diet.. or... Dying to try it.

While this was obviously written by a lady, but the general premise can
be applied to a man, we have probably all been guilty of a bit of
over-indulgence in the past few weeks, the price we pay sits there on
our frames declaring us to the world as overeater’s.

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 nibble, 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 more a lumber.)
I’d remember the 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.”
As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
And prepared once again to battle the dirt…

I said to myself, as only I can,
“You can’t spend the winter dressed like 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 cornbread, 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 years to all
And to all a good diet.

Author Unknown.