| The Month After Chanukah |
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| Wednesday, 06 September 2000 | |
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'Twas the month after Chanukah, and all through the house Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The cookies I'd nibble, the latkas I'd 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). I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared; The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared, The wine or the egg creams, 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 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 won't have a cookie--not even a lick. I'll want to chew only 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! Did you enjoy this joke? Please share it!              Trackback(0)
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