A DIETER'S CHRISTMAS

'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her my girdle and I in chin straps
had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new fallen snow
sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
my clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly
they shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn
I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry
if temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again
as I turned for the night
in the morning I'll starve...
'til I take that first bite!

'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 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
"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!