So my daughter showed me her ghost hunting kit and she was very excited.  She had a “Doctor Who” notebook to record the ghosts.  She had glasses that let her see behind her, flash lights, pens, a jar to collect ectoplasm and strange pictures of ghosts glued to sticks.

ghost-hunting-kit

I don’t know what those were for, I can only assume black magic.  It’s clear to me now that my daughter wants to hunt ghosts in order to enslave their restless souls for her own dark and nefarious purposes.  That’s my girl.

Raising a daughter is interesting.  I’m sure that I’m doing everything wrong and in all likelihood twisting her into a very strange geeky adult.  At the same time pop culture seams to be embracing all the nerdy and geeky things that used to get me beat up growing up.  So possibly my daughter will be perfectly adapted for the new geekier society one day.  I like to think so.

The truth is I was a geek growing up and payed the price for it.  But I don’t know how to raise my kids any other way.  What uses to get me pummeled by unibrowed “jocks” with pituitary problems gets celebrated these day.  I could never have worn an Ironman shirt to class and expect to live, but thankfully my kids can.  And they do.

My biggest fear in life is that the fickle winds of change will reverse and suddenly geeky stuff will no longer be cool or accepted then my kids are screwed.

Until that happens I’ll make sure my daughter is free to watch Doctor Who, have her favorite animal as El Chupicabra, and she’s well versed on how to kick a demon’s ass.

That’s what dads are for.