Twas the Month after Chanukah



Twas the month after Chanukah, and all through the house

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies Id nibble, the latkas Id taste

At Chanukah 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).

Id remember the marvelous meals Id prepared

The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,



The wine or the egg creams, the bread and the cheese

and the way Id never said, No thank you, please.

As I dressed myself in my husbands old shirt

and prepared once again to do battle with dirt—



I said to myself, as only I can

You cant spend the winter disguised as a man!

So… away with the last of the sour cream dip,

Get rid of all chocolate, each cracker and chip



Every last bit of food that I like must be banished

Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I wont have a cookie–not even a lick.

Ill want to chew only a long celery stick.



I wont have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,

Ill munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

Im hungry, Im lonesome, and life is a bore—

But isnt that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!