bigfoodiemama

The month after Christmas ( to the tune of T'was the Night Before Christmas) 'Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The stuffing I'd nibbled, the turkey I'd taste The yummies I'd eaten gone straight to my waist. The wine and the mince pies, the bread and the cheese I should have just said, "No thank you, please". So as I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt, I couldn't believe my bottom and belly - the girth! I said to myself, as only I can, "You can't spend the year disguised as a man!" So away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruitcake, 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. Instead I'll chew on a long celery stick. I won't have Irish coffees, or chocolates or pie, I'll munch on a carrot and quietly I'll cr...