Gin with the nibbles

It's the month after Christmas and I'm taking stock,
nothing is fitting not even a smock!
All that gin with the nibbles, all those extra sips
has spread with no mercy and gone to my hips!
.
I recall with nostalgia brandy butter, blue cheese,
but the way I am going I'll not see my knees
any time before Easter, and never my toes.
Why, oh why did I have so many slices of those?
.
Look away from the last sweets that sit in the box.
You'll know the ones left, caramels hard as rocks.
Espy now regretfully just celery sticks
no dressings on salads how I must get my kicks.
.
This month must be gloomy, alas and alack
as I strive in prison to get slimness back.
But wait! Is it worth it to suffer this way
When my birthday is only a scant month away?!