’Twas the night after Christmas, and all through the place,
the Plump family dozed after stuffing its face.
The dinner had thrilled, the dessert had been swell,
But one of the Plumps wasn’t sleeping so well.
Old man Plump, you see, had heard of Doc Atkins’ diet,
And since he weighed 315, well, he figured he’d try it.
December first, he’d decided, was the day he’d begun,
A choice that allowed lots of Thanksgiving fun.
At first, it was easy cutting all of those carbs.
The unlimited T-bones put a spark in Plump’s barbs.
As he chowed every morning on his omelet of cheese,
He thought, “Finally, a diet with some quality greaze!”
Sure enough, in three weeks Plump was tickled to find
Almost five pounds had slid off his big ole behind!
“By jove!” he exclaimed to Yolanda his bride,
“I’m slimming while lowering my triglyceride!”
But then Christmas drew near, and Plump began to feel dread–
He was plagued with dark visions of brownies and bread,
Plus the yams and the nog and the cookies and fudge.
“Oh no,” feared Joe Plump, “Christmas could be a drudge!”
You see, all these goodies were on the list of taboo,
And each and every one made Plump wail boo hoo.
But the one thing sure to make his head get all wavy–
A holiday feast with no potatoes and gravy!
The night after arrived, and ’twas time for the bib.
The family settled in for a feast of prime rib
And turkey and ham, and Old Plump did not blanch,
He had seconds of all, and salad loaded with ranch.
Through all the courses Atkins would have been proud–
No spuds, no yams, no cranberries allowed.
And the crowning glory of Joe Plump’s evening meal;
When he declined pumpkin pie, said “I’m keepin’ it real.”
His family was pleased and impressed and astonished
As their father stood up and gently admonished,
“I told you I could do it.” Now let’s all go to bed
Before the sight of that Cool Whip starts to cave in my head.”
So the Plumps were all tucked in and snoozing asleep
Except for old Joe, who decided to creep
Downstairs to the kitchen. He was just gonna die
If he failed to inhale one piece of that pie!
He successfully snuck on down to the fridge,
and when he opened the door he about flipped his lidge!
For there on the shelf was a huge piece of pie
Topped with cumulous clouds of Cool Whip on high!
With this note from his wife, “Hey brutha, you’re busted!
But you’ve been a good boy, so this plate should get dusted.
Enjoy every crumb, and do as thou wilt
My gift to you, Joe, one dessert without guilt!”