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Elections are
about choices.
You get to choose
Anytown, USA or Athens, GA, USA ?
No place special or a special place?
Heidi knows that Athens is a special place
and has fought to keep it that way.
In less than 4 years, Heidi has worked hard to hold on
to Athens' sense of place!
* more citizen engagement including new faces at the table
from every part of our community
* more environmental protection with a tree ordinance and
mass grading ordinance against bulldozing the land
* increased alternative transportation choices
* historic designation of our much loved and
envied downtown
► greater citizen and neighborhood involvement in planning
It’s OUR town;
OUR unique little spot on the globe
- let’s not lose it!
Please vote, Dec. 5th, for the person who understands that
better than anybody.
Athens is our town and Heidi is our Mayor!
Endirsed by Athens Grow Green, Pete McCommons of Flagpoie,
Athens Banner-Herald, and everybody else who pets It!
www.ElectHeidi.com • 706.546.9643
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SALON, INC
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Suite 2 - 2440 W. Broad St
706-548-2188
designer clothing for-
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NICO
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clothing boutique 706.5497575
THE GREAT DIVIDE
There have been many moments since I
became a mommy that I have felt that great
division between the haves and the have-nots.
Meaning those who have children and those
who, well, have not. This schism never seemed
as gr»at, though, as when I was relating a story
about a near-choking incident with my son.
About a year ago. Justice went through a
phase of very picky eating. Although he seemed
like a strapping, healthy young boy, I couldn't
help but think he was surely going to waste
away in front of my eyes if I couldn't get at least
three of the recommended three-to-five serv
ings of vegetables in him per day (this is before
they changed the pyramid to five-to-seven daily
servings, those Nazis). The child refused to eat
anything but pancakes and chicken nuggets, and
I felt guilty at every meal that didn't include at
least one green and one yellow vegetable.
I tried everything to get him to eat (bribery,
coercion, threats—of course) but he just wasn't
interested. One evening as I sat staring.at the
full plate before him, I recalled a scene from one
of my favorite films, A Christmas Story, the heart
warming tale of Ralphic and his relentless pursuit
of a Red Rider BB gun. Ralphie's little brother
was also a picky eater and his mother was able
to get a few morsels into him by encouraging
him to show her "how the piggies eat." What can
I say? It sounded like a good idea at the time.
"Come on Justice, show mommy
how the piggies eat!" I excited him
by making some snorting noises
and rooting around on my own
plate (which was already clean,
of course). He started to laugh;
"Okay," he said, gave a snort and
dove in. As he inhaled mashed po
tatoes, green beans and whole ker
nel corn, I oraised myself. Mother
of the year, folks, damn I'm clever.
It was only a minute or two
later that Justice looked up at
me with panic on his little face.
"What's the matter buddy?" He
went white. "My nose," he whis
pered. I jumped up and looked
in his nose, where I discovered a
bright yellow piece of corn lodged
stubbornly in the olfactory area.
I tried to reach in and retrieve it
with my fingernail, but succeeded
only in shoving it further up his
little nostril. I could still see the
corn if I looked hard enough,
staring down, mocking me, "What
were you thinking?" it seemed to
chuckle. "Idiot." I was only trying
to get him to eat! Shit!
I began to panic as Justice got
quieter, saying he couldn't breathe. I knew he
would be able to breathe through his mouth and
wouldn't actually choke, but my sense of urgency
grew the more upset he got, and having little
knowledge of (inner) human anatomy, I didn't
know if the kernel would travel north and take
residence in his brain. And so, I called my hus
band. "Meet me at the hospital. 1 have tevtake
Justice to the emergency room...he’s got corn in
his nose-way up in his nose!" "How the hell did
that happen?" he asked, as if I could be bothered
with such insignificant details. “Just come meet
us!" I yelled. Jeez, why does he have to blame
everything on me? My defenses kicked on. Surely
my child wasn't in serious medical jeopardy just
because I had merely suggested he practice his
animal imitations at our evening meal.
The fact that my husband sounded quite
calm made me even more hysterical. "Hurry! He's
freaking out!" I screeched. Justice was clutching
at his face and crying. When Jeff heard the boy's
distress, he finally conceded this was no joke,
there was trouble. "Uh, uh, uh..." he stammered.
"I know! Hold his head back anJ put your mouth
over his nose and mouth and suck as hard as
you can!" I thought the corn was too resistant
for that to work, but I dropped the phone, held
Justice's head still, placed my big mouth right
over his tiny one and both of his nostrils, and I
sucked like the dickens, so to speak. That corn
kernel flew right out of his nose and straight
into my mouth. I looked at Justice; the color
was coming back into his face. "It's out! Mommy,
you're my hero!" he hugged me tight. I picked
up the phone and told Jeff all was well, crisis
avoided.
As I was relating this story to another mother
who had recently visited the emergency room
with her son, a childless friend of mine stared
on in disbelief. "You sucked it out of his nose?"
she grew pale. "Yeah," I said nonchalantly. "But,
there's snot and stuff," she gagged. "Did you
swailow the corn?" "I don't remember," I replied
vaguely. What was the big deal? A little booger-
covered com 7
I should have told her about the time I drank
several cups of toilec water that Justice offered
me when I was distracted changing a diaper on a
friend's child. I barely even gagged when I found
out what he had been doing. After all, he was
only two and already pulling world-class pranks.
In a family that holds humor in higher regard
than any other value, I glowed with pride when
I got to tell everyone that he had successfully
pulled off his first practical joke.
I could say I just don't get grossed-out that
easily, but it isn't true. Other children's butts are
icky to me, their poop does stink, but my baby's
doesn't. I never had a moment of trouble chang
ing one of his diapers or cleaning his vcmit. He
is the most precious thing in the world to me, as
are all of the vile fluids that emanate from his
body. I wanted to tell this young woman who
had not yet experienced the joys of projectile
doody that if she ever had a child, she would
happily suck corn out of its nose if it would save
said child one second of discomfort. It's just
what you do.
It's hard to remember what life was like
B.C.—before child, but I may have been equally
repulsed at the thought of perforaiing any of
these disgusting tasks in the name of parenting.
Now. it's all old news. And when those childless
folks in my life remark that spending the day
with Justice and me is excellent birth control.
I just smile slyly, because I know that their day
to suck corn will come eventually. And man, do I
hope I'm there to see it!
Elizabeth Deroshia
8 FLAGPOLE.COM • NOVEMBER 22,2006
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