How did my child become a "prodigy"?

(Baonghean) - My wife went on a business trip for a week so I was given the important responsibility of taking my son to summer school:

- Monday morning Math, afternoon Literature, evening English. Tuesday morning Literature, afternoon Math, evening French.

Wednesday morning Math, afternoon Literature, off at night. Thursday morning Literature, afternoon Math, evening English. Friday morning Math, afternoon Literature, evening French. Saturday and Sunday morning Math, afternoon reading in the library, evening Literature.

I was startled:

- What a tight schedule! How come I don't know our child is taking the university entrance exam this year?

- Nonsense, my kid is only in grade... 3. I don't have that much free time to study for university entrance exams!

I read his extra class schedule again, stuck out my tongue and shook my head. No wonder I haven't seen him around lately, he's probably stationed at the teacher's house like the American army in France, oh I forgot, Afghanistan or something. I feel sorry for him but... never mind, he's only in 3rd grade, what kind of studying, the teachers probably let him play word games, solve puzzles, do mental calculations, watch English and French cartoons to lightly review his lessons, but if he plays around all day, he'll lose all his knowledge. What a great educator!

Monday morning, I was sleeping soundly because I stayed up last night watching football (my wife is rarely away from home) when my child knocked loudly on the door:

- It's not morning yet, why don't you let your dad sleep?

- Dad hurry up or I'll be late for school or I'll tell mom!

I opened my eyes and looked at the clock: Oh my god, it was only 5am! I yelled at my son: “Are you daydreaming? What are you studying at this hour? Mom clearly wrote that school starts at 7am, and the teacher’s house is right across the street! - If you come late, you’ll have to sit in the front row, so you’ll have to sit in the back without the fan, it’s too hot, Dad.” With no other choice, I opened my eyes and got up to get dressed. Leaving the house, I asked him generously:

- What do you want to eat, son? Noodles, pho, or porridge?

- Bread, let me bring it to class to eat.

- No, each job has its own purpose, eating like that will hurt your stomach, you know?

- But dad, my whole class eats bread. If I eat breakfast before going to school, I will lose my place. The teacher even teaches while eating instant noodles!

- Okay, what time will you finish school and I will pick you up?

- 9 o'clock, dad, remember to come early to take your child to school!

- What else to learn?

- I still study math but at home I have a different teacher, dad.

I checked my wife’s “martial law” sheet: it really says 7am-11am for Math. “Learn one calculation, run to three or four teachers”, I sighed in frustration because of my son’s difficult learning. Well, let’s try harder, studying with three or four teachers since grade 3 like this, then when taking the university entrance exam, he must have passed three or four schools!

Just like that, every day is the same, my day starts at 5am, I take my child to school and it's still early, I don't know what to do, so I sit in a cafe reading the newspaper and wait for work. At 9am I go pick him up, take him to the second shift. At 11am I pick him up, eat, rest until 1pm then go to school again... At 4pm I finish the first shift... At 6pm I finish the second shift... eat... take my child to school...

After my son finished his evening class, I was exhausted from driving a motorbike taxi all day. Yet before going to bed, I still saw him sitting at the table working hard on his homework!

One day, I was hanging around, watching him do his homework with great interest. Oh my gosh, 5th grade math! His thoughts on global warming! IELTS practice test! I was so dizzy, I stammered and asked him:

- Do you learn these in class?

- Yes, but studying is very difficult. The teacher said if you don't go to school, you won't be able to get good grades, Dad! Suddenly, I felt dizzy. With such difficulty, even his father couldn't do it, let alone a third grader. Oh, or... I blurted out:

- Son, how old are you this year?

Hai Trieu