The people of Salmon Arm liked Christmas a lot…
But the dietitian, Who lived just north, Did NOT!
The dietitian hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be her head wasn’t screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that her pants were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that her stomach was two sizes too small.
Whatever the reason, Her pants or her tummy,
She stood there on Christmas Eve, hating everything yummy,
Staring down from her cave with a sour, evil frown,
At the warm, lighted windows below in the town.
For she knew every one down in their suites,
Was busy now, baking wonderful treats.
“And they’re using real butter,” she snarled with a sneer,
“Their cholesterol is growing! A heart attack is near!”
Then she growled, with her bony fingers nervously drumming,
“I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!”
For Tomorrow, she knew, all would sit down to feast.
And they’d feast. And they’d feast. And they’d feast, feast, feast.
They would feast on turkey, mashed potatoes and pie.
Something the dietitian thought made you die!
And then they’d do something she liked least of all.
They’s sit on the couch, and not move at all. The food they’d eaten would cause them all pain.
They’d gain. And they’d gain. And they’d gain, gain, gain.
But when the night came, it was not what she expected.
People’s portions were reasonable, second helpings rejected
Their plates were brimming with veggies and spice
Dessert was taken, but only a slice
And then after dinner instead of watching TV,
They took headlamps to Larch Hills and went for a ski!
Then the dietitian thought of something she hadn’t yet clued into.
“Maybe Christmas,” she thought, “isn’t all about food.”
And what happened then? Well…in Salmon Arm they say,
That the dietitan’s belly grew three sizes that day.
And the minute her attitude wasn’t quite so uptight,
She baked gingerbread cookies all through the night,
And went to a party, ate some food at the feast. And she, she herself, the dietitian carved the roast beast.
