The Month After Christmas

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 taste
All the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I tried to walk it off, it was more of a lumber.
Even when applied with laughter and wit
My favorite jeans just wouldn't quite fit.

I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared (Gordon's prime rib - yum!)
The mixers (cranberry and 7-up) and the balls of 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 only I 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 dip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Till all the additional ounces (ha ha) have vanished.

I won't have a cookie - not even a lick
I'll want only to chew on a long celery stick (with ranch, of course).
I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread or pie
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly try.

I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life seems a bore -
But isn't that what January's for?
Try more to giggle, for life is a riot;
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

What was your favorite holiday indulgence?