the new year's diet poem

T'was 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 had to 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 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 chip.Every last bit of food that I like must be banished,'til 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!