Sugar, Sugar

Mommy makes me and Judy stay with the shopping cart when we're at the A&P. We can't go down the candy aisle by ourselves, which means I have to fish around the shelves for loose m&ms and Good & Plentys when she's not looking. Once when I was on my hands and knees, I saw a mouse. He stared right at me.

I never eat anything that's wet or has dirt on it. Only clean, dry candy. And not the kind that's wrapped in paper, like Tootsie Rolls or Mary Janes. They're too big for me to take without feeling like I'm doing something wrong. And they make my face hurt from all that chewing.

Judy always gets nervous about the candy. She thinks it's stealing.

"It's free if it's not in the package anymore," I tell her.

"You're gonna get in trouble," she says.

I guess I feel a little guilty, but I still keep doing it. I love candy.

On Friday when we were at the A&P, there was no loose candy anywhere. I even checked the aisle where they keep the cake mixes. Sometimes, there'll be little chocolate chips lying around. But this time, nothing. They must have just cleaned the whole store.

When Mommy stopped to talk with Jennifer Troccoli's mother over by the eggs, I snuck back to the candy aisle. I slid a big bag of m&ms to the back of the shelf and tore it open with both hands. I shook a few out so it looked like what's usually there and filled both pockets of my coat. Some for me, and some for Judy.

As soon as we got home, I told my sister I had a surprise. And when I showed her, she got mad.

"I don't want that candy," she said. "You stole it."

"I found it."

All weekend long, I've been scared she's gonna tell, but she hasn't. Not yet, anyway. If she does, I'm gonna say she's lying. Plus I don't have the candy anymore. I ate it all.