Run Red Riding Hood! Run!

I have been thinking about the story of Little Red Riding Hood and it looks like I am edging towards dismembering a couple of folktales. Cinderella , Snow white , Rapunzel and all the other fantasy sadism. All the parabolic nuance is awesome, hey I have read outlandish theories and I must say even I was rattled. (It takes a lot to do that FYI) But some pundit from the Alps came to a halting cognizance that Little Red Riding Hood is about female sexuality. As I spurt out this scathing coffee, the red hood is “menstrual blood” and she goes to the forest to explore her sexuality. I could have pulled any wild premise from this tale but this? This is a belfry full of loony notions. Today’s blog is not about what goes on in the head of psycho intellect from the Alps, it is about how this folktale is half baked and almost unbelievable even in its illustrative nature.
Riding Hood is a great story by the way, for my 4-year-old son who is pretty much the target audience. The outcome of that objective vision was the wolf, a predator that preys on the young and the old. I decided to visit the boulevard of my childhood and read this not so enthralling tale and all I could do was scream ‘Run Riding Hood Run!’ First of all, a senior citizen has no business living in the middle of the Black Forest by her lone self and pointedly in a predatory zone for wolves? Obviously, it could have been a lot helpful if Riding tweeted hash-tag ‘checking my nana out at point drop’, hash-tag ‘fruit basket things’. I don’t know this is the medieval age probably they had a homing pigeon deliver a letter of Riding Hood little visit. Like all allegories, the interpretation leads us to several avenues but let us look at this plot as it is. Literally. The red cape because what? Kids love colorful clothes, which wasn’t such a brilliant idea because red tends to trigger animal bestiality. Great, so Maybe the pundit from the Alps was right, maybe she put herself out there to attract the big bad wolf(men). Here is an idea for role-playing.
She enters the Black Forest and is distracted by elementary factors of nature such as butterflies and flowers, so she has the luxury to sniff on a dandelion or chase a butterfly. Like Girl, if you don’t start running this instance and get to safety, we know for a fact that the big bad wolf be lurking in them bushes. Where are the adults? Why has a child been tasked with such a dangerous errand? She better run as fast as her little feet can carry her. You see she spends so much time in awe of the forest that the wolf has time to get at grandmas, eat the poor old lady and somehow manages to disguise itself as Nana. Riding’s instinct for survival finally kicks in (about time) and she becomes aware of the danger in the shadows and instinctively rushes at grandmas. This time I am screaming, ‘The other way Riding, you are running the wrong direction, go back!’ She skips along the pebbled path to grandmas little cottage. Uncanny I can’t stop thinking about Hansen and Gretel, hold that thought. The big bad wolf is in granny’s nightgown and nightcap y’all. Like girl you need to get out of here, I mean I could tell her to run but it would be absurd to do that continuously. Man, I am tired. At this point she is dead and the wolf is patting his fanny pack because he knows he has some hot sauce in there. Where in the world had he ever found so ridiculous an idea as to think he could guise as an old woman? A dog’s attempts to pull off this semblance is wild. So, we go back to the apologue nature of the tale. Predators.
Predators come in all kinds of forms, and we teach our kids to be wary of everyone even the most unexpected of people. Female sexuality in the case of the Alps pundit, predators come in form of men and as dark as it is, in reality, we live in a Black Forest with beasts that rape and/or murder old weak women and young girls. Riding notices that grandma is not exactly grandma (face-palm). I could pretend to be a worm and slide on my belly. I am totally a worm guys. Here we are and Riding standing right before a gnarling grandma with a throat infection. What’s the point of running now? In a more sanitized version, the Grim brothers came to the rescue and killed the wolf. In reality who is really there to save you just in the nick of time? ‘How-many-Run-Red-Riding-Hood-Run’ moments have you had? I would love to think that the red hood is symbolic of red flags. It is me, the cognoscenti from the corner. Every red flag, you know you got to run. I had a run-riding-hood-run moment this morning, my mug from work has to be thoroughly washed before I use it and I might just be a germaphobe. I don’t know, but if it is not rinsed several times? I am simply not having coffee. I hate to be the one that has to catch an infection from the wind that will propagate the Zombie Apocalypse. I have saved the world from Armageddon. You are welcome.
I would love my kids to learn through storytelling from these medieval European folktales but I will not leave all the parenting to this. That will be awfully lazy. I am that parent. I will make them watch all the Saw movies. Hahaha aye, I am kidding. C’mon I would never. Take it easy social welfare. Until then, enjoy the rest of your Tuesday, stay tuned!

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