Our parents, what kidders. They tell us...

Our parents, what kidders. They tell us to go to sleep. They say the wolf will eat us if we get out of bed. What nonsense. Still, it’s dark in here. My brother’s over there, on the other side of the room somewhere, snoring. We can hear him. Or is that you-know-who growling? The ‘rents keep the lights off on purpose to keep us guessing. How could such mean people ever have kids? Hey, wolf! No answer. Sneaky, very sneaky. If we put a foot down on the floor he’ll eat it, no matter how dirty it is. We’ll offer him a pinkie finger. Let’s wriggle it around. Nothing. Maybe a pinkie is too small for him. Maybe he’s sitting there, right at the foot of the bed, licking his chops and waiting, waiting . . . He’s got big red eyes, we’re told. Of course, he can’t touch us if we say our special rhyme. OK, here goes: “Sugar is sugar (one foot over the bed), this is our charm (the other foot over), special powers, mighty powers (feet touch the floor) keep us from harm.” No hot breath. No pointy fangs. No wolf. It was only a pack of lies. How much better it would have been if our parents promised to take us to “Wolftales,” a musical adventure for children being presented at the Wadsworth Theatre, Wilshire Boulevard and Sawtelle Avenue, at 1:30 and 3:30 p.m. today. Tickets are $4 for children, $6 for adults. For information call (213) 271-6402.