The Eight Days of Hanukkah

On the first night of Hanukkah my true love gave to me
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the second night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the third night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
3 pounds of corned beef
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the fourth night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
4 potato latkes
3 pounds of corned beef
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the fifth night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
5 bowls of chicken soup
4 potato latkes
3 pounds of corned beef
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the sixth night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
6 pickled herrings
5 bowls of chicken soup
4 potato latkes
3 pounds of corned beef
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the seventh night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
7 noodle kugels
6 pickled herrings
5 bowls of chicken soup
4 potato latkes
3 pounds of corned beef
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese

On the eighth night of Hanukkah, my true love gave to me
8 Alka- Seltzer
7 noodle kugels
6 pickled herrings
5 bowls of chicken soup
4 potato latkes
3 pounds of corned beef
2 Kosher pickles and
Lox, bagels and some cream cheese


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The Night Before Chanukah

'Twas the night before Chanukah, boychicks and maidels
Not a sound could be heard, not even the draidels.
The Menorah was set on the chimney, alight
In the kitchen the Bubba hut gechapt a bite.
Salami, pastrami, a glessala tay
And zayerah pickles with bagels, oy vay!
Gezunt and geschmack, the kinderlech felt
While dreaming of tagelach and Chanukah gelt.

The clock on the mantlepiece away was tickin'
And Bubba was serving a schtickala chicken.
A tumult arose like a thousand brauches,
Santa had fallen and broken his tuches.
I put on my slippers, eins, tsvay, drei,
While Bubba was now on the herring and rye.
I grabbed for my bathrobe and buttoned my gotkes
While Bubba was busy devouring the latkes.

To the window I ran and to my surprise
A little red yarmulka greeted my eyes.
Then he got to the door and saw the Menorah,
"Yiddishe kinder," he said, "Kenehora.
I thought I was in a goyisha hoise,
But as long as I'm here, I'll leave a few toys."

With much gesshray, I asked, "Du bist a Yid?"
"Avada, mein numen is Schloimey Claus, kid."
"Come into the kitchen, I'll get you a dish,
A guppell, a schtickala fish."
With smacks of delight, he started his fressen,
Chopped liver, knaidlach and kreplah gegessen.
Along with his meal, he had a few schnapps,
When it came to eating, this boy was the tops.

He asked for some knishes with pepper and salt,
But they were so hot, he yelled "Oy Gevalt."
Unbuttoning his haizen, he rose from the tisch,
And said, "Your Kosher essen is simply delish."
As he went to the door, he said "I'll see you later,
I'll be back next Pesach, in time for the Seder."

More rapid than eagles his prancers they came,
As he whistled and shourted and called them by name:
"Now Izzy, now Morris, now Yitzak, now Sammy,
Now Irving and Maxie, and Moishe and Mannie."
He gave a gesshray as he drove out of sight:
"Gooten Yomtov to all, and to all a good night."

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'Twas the Month after Chanukah

Twas the month after Chanukah, and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibble, the latkas I'd taste
At Chanukah parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine or the egg creams, the bread and the cheese
and the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
and prepared once again to do battle with dirt---

I said to myself, as only I can
"You can't spend the winter disguised as a man!"
So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of all chocolate, each cracker and chip

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
"Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie--not even a lick.
I'll want to chew only a long celery stick.

I won't have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore---
But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

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