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UPDATED: 4 kids, father found slain in Georgia home; mother charged in deaths

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At 91, Mary Russo Ermel shares lifetime of learning with future generations

<p>Summertime is here. Huge, heavy, sweaty, beleaguered sigh. And &#8230; the animals are home to roost, eat, defecate enormously, eat and torture their landlord. And eat.</p><p>I realize I have a faux rendition of multiple personality disorder. I&#8217;m happy when they leave. I&#8217;m sad when they leave. I&#8217;m happy when they visit. I want to kill them when they leave a takeout container of chicken alfredo in the back seat of my car for a 90-degree week. There&#8217;s just no making me happy!</p><p>If the big Pharma&#8217;s were smart, they&#8217;d hire a middle-aged, female chemist to piece together whatever miraculous cocktail is necessary to formulate a new menopausal, kids-home-for-summer, hate-husband medication and call it MNH (&#8220;Mama&#8217;s Never Happy&#8221;).</p><p>It could be worse, I know. They both have full time jobs for the summer and are largely staying out of trouble. Although, it&#8217;s early July. By August, I could be visiting either of them in a holding cell. You just never know. You really do not.</p><p>Here&#8217;s what I do know: The tens of thousands of dollars in student loans they both will have to repay is going to hurt. A lot. Because instead of stocking away their paychecks this summer, they fling that money at so many stupid things it makes me want to slap the crap out of them.</p><p>New sunglasses? Heck, yeah. Sat on four pairs within the last month.</p><p>New Vans sneakers? A summer must.</p><p>Phone? Well what&#8217;s a boy to do when the fifth one he&#8217;s owned in two years mysteriously slipped from his pocket onto pavement somewhere in Neverland, Pa.?</p><p>My older son is smart, charismatic, kind and the biggest pig I&#8217;ve ever encountered. Dirt just sloughs off of him and onto every surface of the house. I won&#8217;t even begin to describe the daily nail-clipping debacle because you&#8217;ll regurgitate your breakfast.</p><p>This morning, I couldn&#8217;t find the toothpaste. Later, I located it in the shower along with his toothbrush, my really expensive for-bleached-blondes-only shampoo (which was hidden), a Red Bull (Summer Edition) and grapes.</p><p>Hugely agitated, I stalked throughout the house bellowing for him, but following his doughnut-crumb trail, all I found was a pile of mildewy clothes and shoes festering on his floor, topped off with a Little Debbie box (no Debbies inside) and a half-eaten meatball sandwich. I closed the door, said a prayer and went to my Zen place: TJ Maxx.</p><p>Incidentally, summer is also the time for some highly intellectual conservational camaraderie between the two brothers. I wish you could all be a bevy of flies on the wall in my kitchen right now.</p><p>Patrick: &#8220;Wow. Did you know cinnamon is the oldest spice in the world?&#8221;</p><p>Me: &#8220;That&#8217;s interesting! In what class did you learn that tidbit?&#8221;</p><p>Him: &#8220;It says it right here on the back of the Frosted Flakes box.&#8221;</p><p>Me: Silence. Hands clenched.</p><p>Nicholas: &#8220;Well, did <em>you</em> know that tigers love pepper? But they hate cinnamon.&#8221;</p><p>Me: Eye roll: &#8220;Cereal box?&#8221;</p><p>Him: Insulted: &#8220;No! Hangover! Pretty much the most awesome movie ever made!&#8221;</p><p>Deep, deep, guttural sigh.</p><p>And there you have it, right here in the Heck kitchen. All the education, the forced reading of classics, the Scrabble games, National Honor Society, the awards &#8230; for nothing. Apparently spending a behemoth of Benjamins in higher education is a waste. Just read cereal boxes and watch bad movies. Apparently, that&#8217;s where the real-life lessons lie.</p><p>I love September.</p><p>MNH.</p><style>
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<div class="metaInfo"><bylineMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck</p><p>Life Deconstructed</p></bylineMeta></div><div class="metaInfo"><shirttailMeta><p>Maria Jiunta Heck, of West Pittston, is a mother of three and a business owner who lives to dissect the minutiae of life. Send Maria an email at mariajh40@msn.com.</p></shirttailMeta></div>

Life Deconstructed: The boys of summer are home and driving me up the wall