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Fw: Twas the Month After Christmas (Female version)

 
 
 
 
Subject: Fw: Twas the Month After Christmas (Female version)


>
>                                'Twas 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'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 rare,
>                 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
>                       "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 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!
>
>                                      ~Author Unknown
>
>


---- Begin included message ----




[Unable to display image] 'Twas 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'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 rare,
               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
                     "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 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!

                                    ~Author Unknown
---- End included message ----
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