Dad's Summer

At first, when my dad called and said, “It’s summer, bring the kids home and I’ll take care of them for a few weeks. Staying home and hugging the phone all the time is a waste of summer,” I hesitated. My dad was almost seventy, his legs were a bit slow, and his health wasn’t what it used to be. The two kids were the type of kids who “have the means to destroy things.” But my dad was as sure as nails: “I used to command a whole platoon. Now I have a few grandchildren, so it’s no big deal.” Hearing that, I understood, even if I didn’t send them this summer, I would have to send them.

So I packed my backpack, filled it with everything from mosquito repellent to candy, crayons, books, and took the kids to my grandparents' house, where there was a Barringtonia acutangula tree providing shade in the front yard, the sound of a fan clattering on a summer afternoon, and my grandfather was waiting for the kids with a "summer activity rulebook" that he had compiled from... his head.

On the very first day, he clearly stated: “Here, you don’t play with your phone all day. Wake up before 6:30 in the morning. After waking up, fold your blanket, brush your teeth, and sweep the yard. After eating, study or draw. In the afternoon, you can play outside. If you misbehave, you won’t get ice cream tomorrow.” My children looked at him with wide eyes as if they had just met... the leader of the cadet training camp. As for me, I held back my laughter, said goodbye to the children, and drove home, still a little worried.

Yet after only two weeks, everything was back to normal. The kids had gotten used to the routine without them even realizing it. Every morning, my dad would send me a few photos via Zalo: one was folding a blanket, another was bending over to sweep the yard, and one day, grandpa and granddaughter were sitting together picking vegetables and drying beans on the porch. Looking at that scene, I felt both amused and sad, the sadness of an adult who suddenly realized that his children's summer was being relived in the simplest way: no TV, no phone; just grass, the smell of the earth, the sound of birds and grandpa.

Now the kids have truly become his “favorite soldiers”. Every morning they do exercises under the shade of the Indian laurel tree. He shouts: “One – two – three – four!”, and the kids obediently follow. At noon, he reads fairy tales, or tells stories about his time in the army, all of which are old stories that I used to hear over and over again when I was a child, and now when he tells them again, they sound like mysteries to the kids.

In the afternoon, the kids water the plants, pick vegetables, play tag or play badminton. One day, I called my eldest son and he bragged: “I just learned how to fold shirts in the military style with Grandpa!”. I laughed, but felt much lighter inside. Because I myself, once upon a time, also experienced such a “strict” summer, under the command of my father. At that time, I hated it, every time I saw my father, I wanted to avoid him. But when I grew up, I understood that thanks to that old habit, I knew how to live neatly, to be polite, and not to leave dishes lying around after each meal.

One day I ran over to visit, and as soon as I reached the gate I heard him shout softly: “You’re throwing your shoes around again! When you come to my house, you have to be neat and tidy, remember?”

The youngest child mumbled: "I forgot...".

He replied curtly: “Forgetfulness is a chronic disease of lazy people. Remember to be neat next time.”

I couldn't help but laugh, but also felt warm inside. My father is old, but the way he teaches his grandchildren is still full of spirit, still humorous and effective.

I remember once asking my dad: “Aren’t you tired, looking after those naughty grandchildren every day?” He said calmly: “Of course it is. But it’s fun. Besides, summer is a chance for the kids to grow up a little.”

After listening, I didn't say anything more, just thinking that summer is not only for resting, but also a time to learn things that no school can teach: how to live in order, how to love nature, how to listen, how to be patient, and how to wake up early without frowning.

This summer, there was no beach trip or discovery tour. But for the kids, it was the most memorable summer ever, because living with grandpa, every day was a new thing, a new lesson. There was no online learning app, just grandpa and his broom, hoe, cup of tea and countless stories filled with love.

My children have now become accustomed to his “summer rules”. They no longer frown when they are called to wake up early in the morning, nor whine for the phone like they did at first. They have started to occasionally say: “Tomorrow, please let us water the plants”, or “Tonight, please continue telling us about your military service”. As for me, in the afternoons after work, the road to my father’s house suddenly becomes more familiar. Sometimes, just stopping by, seeing the children playing in the yard, while my father sits cross-legged on a chair drinking a cup of tea, I feel relieved.

This summer, the kids got to stay with him, or in fact, they got to stay in my own memories of the past, when dad was also the "commander" of another childhood.

Ha Linh

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/van-hoa/202507/mua-he-cua-bo-63108dc/