Herald and Journal, Dec. 20, 1999

The dieting can wait 'til next year


Santa Claus was feeling low,

the lowest he'd ever felt.

He looked into the mirror,

as he tried to cinch his belt.

There were no notches left to use,

though he struggled mightily,

No, his belt could not be fastened.

He was sad as he could be.

"How can I make my Christmas flight,

when my pants are falling down?

I can't hold them up with one hand,

as I fly from town to town."

The chimneys are no problem,

Santa's magic, don't you see?

But when it comes to Santa's waistline,

well, he's just like you and me.

Just then Mrs. Claus came in.

She saw Santa's worried face

"I told you this would happen.

eating everything in the place!

"Yes, You're chubby and plump!

Where's my jolly old elf?"

Santa laughed at her comment,

in spite of himself.

The reindeer stood at the window,

shaking their heads in dismay.

They knew this could mean

a sad Christmas day.

Suddenly, the elves hustled in

with a Christmas surprise.

And what they had brought

put a gleam in Santa's eyes.

"We worked at the workshop

from sun up to sundown.

We made these suspenders

so your pants won't fall down."

Santa looked dandy

in his new Christmas gear.

and, as for a diet?

Well, maybe next year!

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