Monday, December 26, 2016

Poem of the Day: Twas the diet after Christmas

In bottom of a drawer that used to be my drawer, in the the back of a desk that used to be my desk, in an office that used to be my office, was found a pile of random documents, including this funny poem on the back of a sheet from the fax machine ... from 1999.

[Yes, I cleaned out that desk before it wasn't mine anymore. Yes, other people had too. We just hadn't taken the drawer out of the desk, disassembled the desk, turned the desk literally upside down, and removed the desk parts from the office.]

"Hey wait!" she said, as the pile of random papers was about to be discarded or refiled, or shredded, "I think .... I think I typed that one sheet right there. It certainly looks like a font I would've used. Can I have it back?"

Please enjoy this blast from the past. Maybe it will resurface in another 15-20 years or so.

Twas the diet 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 the 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!

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