NO WAY FONTAY

BY VICKI ELLIS GRIFFIS

CELESTE TRIBUNE

“MiMi, I just have to have this Ariel Mermaid for my birthday. It swims and we can play with it in the pool!” Katelyn begs.

“I want one, too! If we don’t get them, we will just die. We NEED them!" Kylie adds almost in tears.

“You two do not NEED another Barbie, Ariel, or toy for that matter,” Sammy gives me that look that says, “Case closed.”

“You heard Pop Pop,” I tell them sadly, seeing the disappointment in their faces. I head away from the display before World War III erupts right there in the toy aisle. I continue getting my supplies when I have a flashback of a similar situation in our lives where the roles were reversed. Their mom, Stefani, was turning fourteen years old and . . .

“Daddy, can I have a puppy? I just saw the cutest little Pic-A-Poo in the paper and it will be weaned right at my birthday,” Stefani asked six weeks before the special day.

“No way!” Sammy exclaimed with meaning. “We are not having a housedog!”

“Daddy, may I please have that puppy for my birthday?” Stefani implored four weeks before the big event. “I will feed it everyday and make sure it has water. It will not be any trouble to you or Mama.”

“No way!” Sammy asserted. “Puppies chew up everything and ruin the carpet. Been there, done that!”

“Daddy, all I want for my birthday is that cute little ball of fur,” Stefani begged three weeks before the much awaited celebration. “I will train him to the paper and give him a bath everyday!”

“No way,” Sammy banned the notion. “Dogs make the whole house smell and the vet bills will break us for sure.”

“Daddy, I have to have that little doggie. I NEED IT!” Stefani plead two weeks before the fast approaching deadline. “I will pick up after him, train him to the paper and shampoo the carpets every Saturday. You won‘t even know he is in the house.”

“No way,” Sammy refused. “We are not getting the dog, Stefani. It is not fair to our other dog, Old Jack, to make him stay outside while a new dog gets to stay in the house.”

“Daddy, I have never wanted anything so badly in my life as I want this puppy!” Stefani beseeched one week before her fourteenth birthday. “I’ll never ask you for anything again as long as I live!”

“NO WAY! I am not going to change my mind this time, so quit asking!” Sammy said emphatically. “We do not NEED a puppy and that is that. End of discussion.”

The night before her birthday, Stefani looked at her daddy with those sad, large “puppy dog” eyes and batted her eyelashes. “Daddy, please! I just have to have that puppy! Without it, I will just curl up and die!” Using a different psychology, she gave it one last effort. “I need something of my very own to teach me responsibility,” she coerced, letting the tears flow.

The look on his face told her, “Case closed!” As she dragged down the hall to her bedroom, she would look back to make sure he was watching. I was actually pretty proud of my husband for standing his ground on this decision. Raising his eyebrows over his glasses, Stefani sadly admitted defeat and closed her door loudly.

The next morning, I was shaken awake at the crack of dawn. Sammy was fully dressed. “What happened?” I sat up, suddenly very awake. “Where are you going at this time of morning?”

“Shhh,” he said. “We have to hurry to the Kennel to pick up Stefani’s birthday present,” he winked at me, smiling from ear to ear. And so, “No Way Fontay” came into our lives.

“Please, MiMi, please buy us those Ariel swimming mermaids. We will play with them in the pool everyday and take care of them and . . .” The grand girls stop short when they see the affirmative smile on my face.

“Go get them,” I say with a smile.

Sammy comes around the corner to see what all the squealing and laughing is about. When he sees the girls holding the dolls and jumping up and down, he huffs, crosses his arms and gives me “that look” of disapproval. “I told you they didn’t need another toy.”

“Well, I was just remembering No Way Fontay and how I had to clean up after that puppy, how he chewed up my favorite high heels and ruined the carpet. Payback is heck,” I say with a twinkle in my eye. He looks at me incredulously. “That happened over twenty years ago!”

“Consider yourself lucky,” I laugh. “The Ariels only cost $9.99, no vet bills, and they don‘t have to be house trained.”