Trouble Boy ( Bản dịch Chú bé rắc rối của Nguyễn Nhật Ánh )

I don't know about you, but I've never worried about anyone. I haven't even finished worrying about myself. It's exactly like my mother commented: You don't even know how to take care of yourself, I wonder what you'll be able to do when you grow up. Those are the words my mother often laments while she's scrubbing and bathing me. And I'm not a kid at all, I'm thirteen years old, a proper seventh grader. To be honest, I'd rather bathe myself, splash around and play in the water as long as I want, no one can stop me. But whether I like it is one thing, and whether my mother likes it or not is another. Every time I come out of the bathroom, my head and neck are still wet, before I can even sneak out to the playground, she immediately grabs my hand and pulls me closer: - Come here and see! So I have to grit my teeth and stand still, trying to stick out my chest, because that's the place I scrub the most thoroughly. But knowing my plan, my mother only glanced at my chest and immediately turned me around. Oh my god, are you bathing or are you dipping in water? Look at your elbows, covered in a layer of black dirt, it looks disgusting! And then behind your ears, then your knees… Are you saving the dirt to build a house? Wherever my mother touched, the sky came. Finally, my mother always ordered: Come here, I will bathe you again! My mother spread her arms and herded me into the bathroom like a pig that had escaped from its pen, making it impossible for me to escape. I walked backwards and grimaced. Being a general in this situation was not fun at all. Despite my screams, my mother continued to scrub until my skin was red. My younger sister, Ai, was no more heroic than me. Every time my mother bathed him, he screamed like the house was on fire. His mouth was so small, but his screams were so loud that it could break the sky. But when it was my turn to scream, he hid outside the door and laughed like a gorilla, so annoying! In fact, I am not a lazy person. The proof is that I studied very well. I was an excellent student for many years. Thanks to that, every time I messed up something, my grandmother often defended me: - Stop scolding him! Talent comes with flaws! Our family doesn't have many smart and brilliant people like him. I don't know what I'm smart and brilliant about, but when my grandmother praised me, I was overjoyed. But my father made me lose interest: - What talent! He's all grown up, but he still breaks three glasses! My grandmother continued to defend me, although her voice was less enthusiastic: - His mind is all on books and notebooks, he doesn't have time to worry about anything else! My mother sided with my father: - You keep saying that to spoil him! Even at school, people teach that studying must go hand in hand with working, no one studies for nothing without knowing how to do it! At this point, my grandmother became depressed: - I mean what I say… On the battlefield, when surrendering, people raise the white flag, but when my grandmother surrendered, she said “I mean what I say”. Every time I heard that, I despaired, knowing that I could no longer hope for her protection. Concluding about me, my father said: - What a superficial person. My mother said: - What a hasty person! As for my grandmother, she remained consistent: - I rarely see anyone as smart and bright as her. But my grandmother was in the minority. If only my grandfather were still alive, he would support her! Whenever I did something wrong, I often wished for that. In the debates about my personality and qualities, Ai always stood outside. She was only a year younger than me, but she was extremely smart. I knew for sure that if she opened her mouth, she would criticize me for being stupid. She was very “in tune” with my mother. She was exactly like my mother in her gestures, mannerisms, voice, and personality. Everyone said so. But when she heard people commenting on me, she sat quietly. She was afraid that if she said something rash, I would take revenge by hitting her on the forehead when tutoring her. Before, I had never taught her for more than fifteen minutes. To tell the truth, when I first sat down at the table, I was still “brothers” with her for a while, but if I lectured her two or three times and she still didn’t understand, I would get angry. So, with each lecture, I would hit her. At first, it was a gentle tap, but later, I would hit her straight on the arm. I “lectured” so hard that Ai couldn’t take it anymore and cried out. Its terrible sound made the whole house panic as if there was an enemy. My grandmother rushed down from the attic, my father ran over from the study, and my mother threw her toothbrush into the clothes basin, rushed out of the bathroom, so hurriedly that she almost hit her head on the edge of the cupboard next to the entrance. As for me, I ducked under the table, ignoring my status as a “teacher”. Hiding with me under the table was Mino. At first, when he heard Ai screaming, he was scared and tucked his tail in. When he saw that I was even more frightened than he was, he happily wagged his tail. But people make tables and chairs to sit on, not to play hide-and-seek, so every time I was discovered quickly. And then, of course, my parents beat me up for being so rude. As for my grandmother, she always started with: - Stop scolding her! And ended with: - That's what I said!