'Twas three days before Christmas,
And all through our home,
Our diets were dying,
No one's worse than my own.
The children were sleeping,
All cozy and sweet,
As their tummies digested,
Yet more holiday treats.
I in my slippers,
And Chef Matt in his shorts,
Were attempting to fend off
Another sugary course.
And then arose from the kitchen
Quite a deafening chorus.
The stashes of treats shouted:
"Please don't ignore us!"
"You know that you want us,
The cookies and fudge,
We'll be here 'til New Year's,
We're not going to budge.
"Don't stick to your diet,
Now that's just not living,
Haven't you baked six whole pies
Since the week of Thanksgiving?
"The potlucks and gatherings
Over the last long five weeks,
Have certainly filled out
Your waists and your cheeks.
"But what wondrous treats!
What chocolates, what cakes!
It is the sweet delicacies
That a good holiday makes.
"Cake pops and mints,
And peanut butter kisses,
Frosted sugar cookies,
Full of butter, and delicious.
"The New Year is your chance
To keep the calories at bay,
To go back to vegetables
And hide the Crisco away.
"But it's almost Christmas,
A time for family and peace,
And gratuitous indulgence
In all manner of sweets.
"So eat up, my friends,
Give up your noble fight,
And a merry Christmas to you,
And to all a sweet night!"
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