Evidently, Little Red Riding Hood got on her mother’s nerves. A lot. All I know is that I would never have sent my children into the woods alone, even on their worst days.
So what we’ve got is one screwed-up mom and a child that may or may not have been unbearably aggravating.
Let’s look at the facts:
Aggravation #1: Red Riding Hood gets distracted easily. What kid doesn’t? There’s a game here, a toy there, the TV’s blaring, and pretty soon, the kid’s hanging from the lampshade. Is it any reason to send the child to the wolves?
Aggravation #2: Red Riding Hood talks to strangers. We keep telling and telling our kids not to talk to strangers, but how will they ever get to know someone? Every single person is a stranger at first. And, besides, I do it all the time. Any time I’m stuck in a line with no People magazine nearby, I comment to the person next to me that I chose the wrong line. And, before you know it, I’m learning her life history.
Aggravation #3: Granted, Red Riding Hood shouldn’t be sharing her destination with the Wolf. That was just plain stupid, much like plastering your destination on Facebook before your vacation.
Aggravation #4: Red Riding Hood took the long way around. Now, really, if her mother really wanted her to make it to her grandmother’s house in a timely fashion, wouldn’t you think she’d have pointed out a shortcut? The evidence is mounting up against the mother, I’d say.
Aggravation #5: Once again, I’m holding the mother culpable. If that poor child could not tell the difference between a wolf and a grandmother, she needed: 1) her vision checked, 2) her hearing checked, 3) her smelling checked, 4) her sense of touch checked—when she nuzzled her grandmother, couldn’t she feel the hairy face? and/or 5) an IQ test administered. Red Riding Hood was a tad young to be taking herself to the doctor. (Then again, her mother did insist she visit her grandmother alone.)
Aggravation #6: Maybe this is where the mother lost it. I wouldn’t mind hearing, “What big eyes you have,” but if I had a child tell me, “What big ears you have” or “What big teeth you have,” I’d be thinking the next thing out of her mouth might be, “What big feet you have” or “What a big belly you have,” and that would be just plain rude. I might throw her to the wolves, too.
Through the facts presented, though, Little Red Riding Hood was a young, innocent dupe. All in all, that mother was just plain lucky she didn’t end up behind bars.