My stomach wakes me with the sound of a roar
I can’t stand up now or I may fall to the floor
So for now I will stay snuggled up in my bed
Damn that White Russian that pounds in my head
As the other women cooked my taste buds were requested
Hind sight tells me now that I should have protested
My love of glazed ham, crackers and dips
Has caused a few inches to grow on my hips
Yummy cocktail wieners with Bro’s spicy mustard
Sweet little tarts filled with creamy rich custard
Ores devours, desserts and booze galore
Each time a tray emptied someone filled it with more
None of these things would have been a mistake
If I hadn’t topped it all off with a huge piece of cake
Each bite that I took I chewed with a grin
Now today I must carry a dandy third chin
Why does this happen to me every year?
Why must I pay for my Christmas cheer?
Now its time to get up, the exercise must begin
I can no longer lay here feeling the stretch of my skin
No comments:
Post a Comment