It was a sunny Sunday morning. Hien was just about to make herself a cup of coffee when her daughter suddenly dashed over, eyes shining as if she’d just discovered the secrets of the universe.
“Mom! Why can sorrow be cut in half?”
Hien froze, her brain spinning in circles with no answer, so she asked back:
“Uh… who told you that?”
“In that song, Mom… ‘Cut sorrow in half, I let go and cut sorrow in half. I cut away your shadow, carrying it with me all this time…’”
Hien was stunned for a moment.
But the interrogation wasn’t over.
“Mom, do you know the song Bắc Bling?”
Hien looked blank.
“Mom… doesn’t know.”
Her daughter immediately shook her head with a dramatic sigh.
“Mom, you’re sooo outdated.”
Before Hien could react, the girl pressed on:
“What about Thủy Triều? ‘Close your eyes and kiss my ear, I can’t quit missing you…’”
Hien nearly fell off her chair.
“Sweetheart, Listen to children’s songs, okay? Those songs are for grown-ups.”
The little one pouted.
“But I like them!”
(her current playlist includes Quang Hung MasterD, Tie You Up, Tăng Duy Tân, and summer anthems by Đức Phúc and Hòa Minzy… basically the Gen Z heartbreak anthem collection.)
Later, when it was time to get dressed to go out, Hien cheerfully pulled out a bright pink princess dress.
“Wear this one, darling. It’s so pretty and feminine, perfect!”
The girl folded her arms, face dead serious:
“No! Dresses are ugly, ugly, ugly. I only like clothes.”
Hien sighed, placed the lovely dress on the sofa, and turned around – only to nearly faint. Her daughter was already “party-ready” in a shabby porridge-colored pajama set with pants dragging on the floor, paired with bathroom slippers. Yet she stood there tall, chin raised high, her stubborn forehead saying it all.
“Sweetie… what you’re wearing is… very cute. But today’s special, so this labubu outfit would look better. Where are your earrings? Should I tie a garlic bulb for you instead?”
“Nooo!” the girl whined, twisting and wriggling, her face scrunching up in protest as she lectured Hien. Her voice was on the verge of tears.
“Why do you always make me do what you want? Grandma never makes me wear anything! What I wear is MY choice. Why do you always force me to wear what YOU want? That dress makes me look like a little kid!”
Hien was dumbfounded once more.
“Oh my girl, you’ve grown up so fast!
But the girl wasn’t done. She landed her final blow:
“And the other day, why did you compare me to other kids? Why don’t you compare yourself to other moms instead?”
Hien sank into a corner, reflecting on the fate of motherhood. People say raising children is a happy journey. Sure, it’s happy- but that’s not the full picture. Parenting is actually the toughest job in the world: more stressful than being a boss, messier than being an employee, and worst of all… absolutely zero vacation days. Anyone who thinks it’s simple has clearly never been out-argued, clean and sharp, by the “life philosophies” of a five-year-old.
Excerpt from the short story collection “The Journey of Motherhood” – TM Ha Kim
