Food control in an age of eating disorders

I've had to hide the bananas
She can bite through the skins
And she can recognise
The box lunch comes in
The muffins are stored
In a self-sealing box
Like the flapjacks and biscuits
Kept behind locks

Now that she climbs
On counters and tables
The food is in danger
As long as she's able
To reach with one arm
While the other holds tight
But if all she can reach
Is the bread, that's alright.

I lock up the bad foods,
Let her loose on the good,
And hope that the message
Gets lost like it should
Because it's already difficult
To be ok with eating
Without moral values
Applied to the sweeties.