The story of Little Red Riding Hood used to scare the Bejaysus out of me as a young cub.
Rocking up to the Granny's spot meant two things for me as a child.
One; when the two pensioners fell asleep at seven bells, it meant that no-one was conscious enough to tell me to go to bed at eight - and you'd be surprised what a 6-year-old could find on Channel 4 in the mid-'90s.
And two. French Toast. Jesus, I could never get my head around it at all. There was nothing like it. Bread. Eggs. And sugar. A meal fit for a king.
Anything that at all threatened the idyll of those trips to the old woman's old woman, understandably, never sat right with me. And certainly not a wolf consuming her whole, donning her nightgown and then luring me to imminent death.
Wading through all that shite to the bottom line, you'd want to be wary of the wolf in grandma's nightie within Gaelic Football's house in the woods.
Dublin will miss out on Allianz National League final weekend this year, the first time they have done so since Mitt Romney still thought he stood a chance of reaching the White House
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Jim Gavin's side have swept all and sundry in the intermittent seven years, a golden age that has saw the Clondalkin man win just the sixteen major trophies at the helm of a rampant blue juggernaut.
Anyone who thinks that train is grinding to a halt as the capital men bid for five-in-a-row immortality this September need visit their local physician.
Defeats to Monaghan, Kerry and Saturday night's out of sorts submission at home to Tyrone heralded a first for this particular cycle of players and it's mentor.
Never before have they had to suffer the indignity of three league defeats under Gavin. Never before has anyone dared question their supremacy under the maestro.
However, the stark fact of the matter is this. Whilst trying to imply that not two fiddlers was given over this year's league campaign is bordering on outlandish, there are certainly grounds to assume that they'd be content enough in giving up one.
Dublin given "a kick in the backside" heading into championship, says Tomás Ó Sé. #rtegaa pic.twitter.com/DmMLK83tAM
— The Sunday Game (@TheSundayGame) March 17, 2019
Tomás hit the nail on the head Sunday night; a call to arms to beware the wolf.
We can trust that reparations are well underway already within the camp. Cavan, you'd think will be bear the brunt of frustrations in Breffni Park this weekend in what one could fathom may turn to a blood bath.
Thereafter, the Dubs will stew for nine long weeks.
Nine weeks to refocus the mind. Nine weeks for the likes of the Dean Rock's of this world to play themselves back into form in the less exposed surroundings of various club fields up and down the county. Nine weeks for Paddy Andrews to recover from his broken jaw. Nine more weeks to monitor the Rory O'Carroll situation in Stillorgan, dare we say in the same breath negotiate another in Clontarf.
Whilst Kerry have undoubtedly improved over the autumn, rhetoric supporting any belief that fellow conquerors Tyrone and Monaghan have done the same is laughably premature.
Mickey Harte's side couldn't buy a performance throughout February, whilst the Farney men will have to hope that the Peter Keane win machine doesn't let up any with the finish line in sight at Dr Hyde Park next Sunday, with relegation to Division 2 still staring Malachy O'Rourke's men square-in-the-face.
Whilst taking nothing away from both Ulster side's impressive victories over the All-Ireland holders, it's fair to say that February and March have seen a few Dublin off-days in seven years.
It's one thing outwitting the hungry wolf. People would be better served not to anger it too.
The "drive-for-five" has seen the metal hit the floor.
