Hiding Candy from Children

I hide candy from my children...
I am preventing diabetes.  I am saving money. I am preventing cavities.  I am teaching them how to eat healthy. Processed sugar is not good for their growing bodies... 
Candy is the devil.
Lies...  All lies. 
I do it so I can eat it all myself.
My days of eating candy without a chaperone are gone.  I do not have children when candy appears; I have birds of prey.  Not even half a rice krispie from a Krackle survives with those vultures circling.  Beady eyes with sharp beaks moving and pecking all around...
Now I resort to desperate measures.
I buy it and deny it like a junkie in rehab.  I search Craigslist and pay with cash. 
No receipts. No records.
I meet “a guy” for a bag of Skittles and a fun size Kit Kat. I tuck away Hershey bars in a tampon box under the bathroom sink and shove Lemonheads in a hollowed out college Calculus book .
 A half-eaten Chick-O-Stick and a watermelon BlowPop reside in a box of Super All-Bran on the top shelf of the pantry.  An Almond Snickers takes up space in a Velveeta box while a bag of Hershey Kisses takes up residence in a box of frozen peas.  They never think to look under the beet salad or the half a head of leftover cabbage.
I have been getting bold lately, though.  
I recently stuffed a box of Peeps up the sleeve of my shirt and waved to my children as I walked by. Daughter Number Two asked me what was wrong with my elbow.
Last Saturday after I returned from grocery shopping, I put M&M’s in my hand and brought it to my mouth with a fake cough to secretly flaunt the candy coated gems and send them into my mouth - right under their tiny little beaks.
“Did you smell that?”
“What?”
“Chocolate.  Mom bought chocolate!”
 Poor little birds.   Scratching through bags. Searching fruitlessly.  Broccoli and cauliflower strewn across the counter.  A jug of milk cast off in despair.  Dented cans of tomatoes forlorn and abandoned.
Unfortunately, I suddenly choked on a W (must have gone down the wrong way) and the kids came running.
“You OK?”
“Hey, what’s that?”
The Little One eyed me suspiciously and closed the drapes. 
The Big One put her knee on me. 
The Middle One...turned…
and locked the door.