Sunday, February 2, 2014

Super Bowl Sunday

Super Sunday

I sit upon my butt so wide.
In spite of all the diets I've tried.
In the 60's the doctor gave me pills.
To fit the wedding gown with no frills.


The 70's brought the Weight Watcher plan.
Losing many pounds, I was really a fan.
Later I joined the belly dance craze.
Husband was embarrassed by that faze!


The 80's brought the Fonda tapes.
We jumped around like a bunch of apes.
In the 90's Atkins and South Beach had us counting carbs
While we wore mall bangs and shoulder pad garbs.



By 2000 the lost pounds had returned.
I knew the calories must be burned.
Richard Simmons and I danced each day.
I watched the pounds melt away.


But, alas, dear friends, my hips have been found
By each and every single, damned, lost pound.
I am covered with blubber from head to toe.
The enjoyment of food and drink is my biggest foe.

The fat that I have lost would fill a tanker car.
I want things to change from the way they are.
It will take determination, work and self control.
I shall start anew ...  right just after the Super Bowl!


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