Mellisa always wanted a cat, but her mother was allergic.
Of course, there was no evidence of this allergy. Mellisa went to her friend’s house regularly, where not one but three cats resided, and when she came home, there was no reaction from her mother.
But still, every time she mentioned it, her mother would say, “You know I have an allergy, dear,” and her father was snicker.
Mellisa was not one to be deterred by details, though. So when they toured the back of the pet store – the aquaria, to be specific – and she saw the catfish, she knew what to do.
“See Mom? You won’t have an allergy to that, it’s a fish! I get my cat, you stay safe, win-win.”
“No,” her mother said. “How do we know I’m not allergic? It’s all cats that my allergy is bad about.”
“This isn’t a cat though.”
“Doesn’t matter, still allergic.”
So Mellisa stuck her hand in the water and splashed her mother’s face. Her mother shrieked, but didn’t break out into hives, or have her throat close off.
“See? You’re fine. Now let me get my catfish.”
Out of excuses, Mellisa mother relented. But she refused to buy the necessary aquarium, so after a few weeks in the plastic bag, the fish died.
“See? You can’t look after it,” her mother said.
Mellisa cried, but conceded that maybe her mother was right.