> TWAS THE DAY AFTER CHRISTMAS > > Twas the day 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 a biscuit, no sweeties 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!
Better not sit and make lace either..... Sue in East Yorkshire To unsubscribe send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] containing the line: unsubscribe lace-chat [EMAIL PROTECTED] For help, write to [EMAIL PROTECTED]
