Tracey
Member
Registered: 27th Aug 03
User status: Offline
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'Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the chocolates I'd taste
And 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 marvellous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the mince pies, 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 only I can
"You can't spend this winter disguised as a man!"
So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every Pringle and chip
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have an icecream --not even a lick.
I'll want to chew only on a long celery stick.
I won't have McDonald's, bacon butty, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm fed up, 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!
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