Imagine a giant robot space samurai from the future riding a hover-dragon (also robotic) with his laser sword in one hand and one of those double neck guitars in his two other hands (I forgot to mention he has three hands) and he’s slicing his way through hoards of Lego orcs and goblins and guided missiles in a blasted dystopian future and the exploding bits from the havoc plink against the guitar which miraculously plays Led Zeppelin’s Gallows Pole. That’s the kind of thing I’m always on the lookout for and when I can’t find it, I dream it up.
DadisthenewMom is a geek. Or is it nerd? I really haven’t been to enough meetings lately to remember which one we’re supposed to use. I’m whichever one argues about the physics of Star Wars and doesn’t have a date to prom… unless you count the saucy elven wench waiting for me to log onto the World of Warcraft as a date. No, you don’t? You’re right, I shouldn’t either. I’m into nearly every genre of fantasy make-believe that is out there.
“Hey DadisthenewMom,” you might say, “want to do some LARPing by the anime/comic book store before we head down to HobbitCon?”
Yes, Yes and Yes. I’m into whatever you’ve got. Except cowboy. Ick. Zero appeal, cowboy. The closest I ever got into that world is a flannel shirt I once wore on Halloween in 2002 (I was dressed as Merlin Mann). How does all this affect The Child? Well, she could tell you plot of the Hobbit and says “thank you, robot” to towel dispensers in bathrooms. She’s a little girl version of me. Or at least she was until we watched Toy Story 3.
There’s a cowgirl character named Jessie. Rootin’ Tootin’ cowgirliest cowgirl in the west blah blah blah. She’s barely even a main character, but all of the sudden The Child wants nothing more than to be her. Not only to be her but also to refer to herself as “Jessie” in the 3rd person. “Jessie needs some cheese, Jessie is having a tough day, Jessie needs to go potty…” Now she wears a cowgirl outfit that once belonged to her grandma Larky. She wears it everywhere – school, library, shopping, etc. For the first time since her birth I don’t understand my child’s world view. Cowgirl?! What am I supposed to do with that?
Oh man, she’s so cute, with the vest and chaps and the… the boots… I guess I’m a hover horse and we’re gonna go laser lasso some morlocks or something. Giddyup.