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 little boy 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! Why don't you know about our child's university entrance exam this year?

- Nonsense, my child is only in grade... 3. Studying for university entrance exams is not that free!

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 his 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 is that? The teachers probably let him play word puzzles, solve puzzles, do mental calculations, watch English and French cartoons to help him review his lessons lightly, otherwise playing around all day will ruin his knowledge. What a great teacher!

Monday morning, I was sleeping soundly because I stayed up last night watching football (my wife is rarely away from home) when my son 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 for at this hour? Mom clearly said that school starts at 7am, and the teacher’s house is right across the street! - If you’re late, you’ll have to sit in the front row, so you’ll have to sit in the back without a fan, it’s too hot, Dad.” I had no choice but to open my eyes and get dressed. When I left the house, I asked him in a generous voice:

- 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 me 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 Math from 7am to 11am. “Learn one calculation, run to three or four teachers”, I sighed in frustration because of my son’s difficult learning. Let’s try harder, studying with three or four teachers since grade 3, 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 and go to school again... At 4pm I finish my first shift... At 6pm I finish my 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. But 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 things in class?

- Yes, but studying is very difficult. The teacher said if you don't go to school, you won't be a good student in class, Dad! Suddenly, I felt dizzy. If it's this difficult, even his father can't do it, let alone a child in grade 3. Oh, or... I blurted out:

- Son, how old are you this year?

Hai Trieu