No Means No...in some circles

When I took Katie to the public health nurse for her six-month vaccinations, the nurse handed me a thick booklet. A how-to on raising babies to toddlers to wildly successful humans or something like that. I started off reading carefully through each age range to make sure I was helping Katie hit her milestones and was surprised at one of the entries. It said to avoid saying ‘no’ except for situations that are dangerous.

I can think of many reasons why you wouldn’t want to introduce that word to a toddler’s vocabulary but despite my best efforts, she’s picked it up. She uses it quite readily actually.

Last night during dinner:

“Would you like some water?”

“No!” (shakes head furiously)

“Would you like some more chicken?”

“No!” (more head shaking)

“Are you done?”

“No!”

“Do you like daddy?”

“No!”

Now I know she’s misusing the word. This little girl is obsessed with her dad.

Bless her little heart, I hope she doesn’t ever stop saying no like she means it. When she means it.

Maybe it’s a grown up thing, maybe it’s a woman thing but I have a hard time saying no. So when I do say it, better believe I mean it.

But apparently everyone doesn’t realize that.

Over the weekend, I decided to finally install a drainage pipe in our front yard to take care of the soggy bog that results from our sloping driveway and yard (and the copious amounts of rain we get here).

We had to run to grab some gravel for the project and happened to be right by a Mazda dealership. Our car had been acting…differently…of late so we decided to just pop in and see what pricing we’d be looking at if we did need to jump into a car in the near future.

They were all very pleasant even though I was covered in mud from my outdoor project. We got some pricing and returned home, happily informed but in no rush to jump on a deal.

Well, at some point during the process we must have given them our phone number because come Monday morning, the dealership was calling. Were we ready to jump on a great deal? Today would be our last chance since it was the end of the month.

I called Sterling at work to talk it over. Would we really bite the bullet and buy a car? A new car? On credit? I’d never financed a car and wasn’t about to even at 0% after we’d just gone to one salary never mind adding a mortgage and a little person to our family in the last year and a half.

We hadn’t even test driven a car while at the dealership so it felt way too rushed. After many calls back and forth and considering ditching Katie’s first real Halloween to go test drive cars, I let the salesman know we weren’t interested at this time.

It was harder than I thought but there, I did it. I said no thanks.

But he called back.

He said if I just gave him my credit card number, he could put a refundable deposit on the deal and it could still be honoured if we changed our mind in the next three days.

Now we had skin in the game.

I didn’t sleep more than three hours that night. Katie’s teething combined with my racing brain didn’t help. In the middle of my restless night, I started messaging Mazda dealers across BC. Did you know there’s someone online at 3 a.m.?

I was able to get several quotes and one was so low, I thought if we were going to go with a car, that would be the one.

Armed with that new, low offer, we went to test drive the car we’d been eyeing to see if it was worth a trip to the mainland to capitalize on that steal of a deal.

We test drove, were satisfied enough and went to say our goodbyes. Of course the salesman wanted to close the transaction. After lots of back and forth for over an hour, I told him we had a better offer elsewhere and unless they could match it, would be going with that offer.

He balked at the offer and said it wasn’t legit. I said I’d rather hedge my bets and see if it’s legit than buy a car for $2400 more on his impression that a better deal wasn’t possible. Thankfully I had somewhere to be and was already super late so I made a quick exit but not before we promised to check in with him the next day.

So we did. We sat in that little office far too long, well after the dealership had closed. Well after we should have been there. I finally just threw my hands up and said I didn’t feel good about buying the vehicle without at least checking in with the dealership on the mainland. Sorry, but we’re not buying this car today.

I looked at Sterling, hoping he’d echo my sentiments but he just sat there. Was I being foolish? Was I being unreasonable? Should I just suck it up and jump on this opportunity even if it wasn’t the best deal?

No, I’d thought about it. All night long. Two nights in a row now. I’d done research, compared quotes, talked with friends and neighbors, prayed about it even. It didn’t feel right.

At one point I even referenced my hockey pool to try to hammer home the point that I was walking away because I didn’t want to get burned again. I’d had a guy offer me over 30 trade variations for a player I told him over and over I didn’t want to move. One afternoon, after what felt like the 30 millionth trade offer and after 13 days of sleepless nights thanks to freaking molars coming in, I declined his offer but sent a counter proposal. I thought he wouldn’t take it but I just wanted to shut him up. And I also felt bad for rejecting him over and over again.

He took my deal and I’ve been sour about it ever since. It was a stupid, one sided trade that didn’t benefit me at all. And I offered it to him!

So, armed with that fresh memory, I said my last firm no and walked out into the lobby.

But Sterling stayed and somehow we walked out of the dealership with a deal in principle. We were buying the car.

They were technically closed so they had us sign some forms, confirmed our financing and sent us home in a new car. Well, Sterling took it home. I wanted nothing to do with it.

The next day, we headed back to the dealership to officially buy the car. There was a whole other process. When it came time for the warranty up-sale, I was in and out of the room chasing Katie. Sterling and I hadn’t discussed the added warranty but have an overall disdain for warranties and insurance in general. When I learned it would be $2300 to extend the warranty to year seven I balked and said a quick no. The salesman looked at me like I had two heads. He tried three more times to sell the warranty, even saying you’d be dumb not to get it. I said no each time.

He finally threw his hands up and said okay. I felt like garbage.

I started thinking about all the times I’d said no to deaf ears. The reporter who would not listen to me when I said he couldn’t take a press box seat for games he wasn’t working. We had that conversation for two seasons before his boss finally fired him. The salesmen. The fantasy hockey poolie. The bank who wouldn’t close my account after standing at the teller counter for over an hour trying to do so.

I felt like crap then and now. Over a nice car.

Then I thought of other people who say no. Even though it’s hard and can be uncomfortable because so many of us are programmed to please others at all costs.

I feel like garbage over a car deal. Possibly losing money. How about rape victims? Geez, that must torment them to no end. I’m writing this at 5 a.m. because I can’t sleep over a car. A car!

There are takeaways here though. The biggest one for me is to make sure Katie never loses her unabashed ability to say no. Even if it’s a misguided no, it’s hers and I respect that. I just wish others would too.