'Twas the month after Christmas

A fitting start to the New Year, and the new family blog. A little ditty sent in by Margaret Thompson (nee Forster!) aka Meg, Mam, Mumsie, Auntie Margaret...

‘Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse!
The stuffing I’d nibble, the turkey I’d taste
The yummies I’d eaten, gone straight to my waist!
The wine and the mince pies, the bread and the cheese
I should have just said, “No thankyou – please”
So as I dressed myself in my boyfriend’s old shirt,
I couldn’t believe my bottom… my belly… the girth!
I said to myself, as only I can,

“You can’t spend the year disguised as a man!”
So away with the last of the sour-cream dip,
Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Until all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick
Instead I’ll chew on a long celery stick.
I won’t have Irish coffees, or chocolates, 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’s for?”
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all, and to all a good diet.