Hamilton Isn’t My Thing, But My Daughter Is—That’s Why I’m All In

Every single day in my house I hear “Alexander Hamilton, Alexander Hamilton…” blasting from my 13-year-old daughter’s headphones. She’s obsessed. And I mean obsessed with everything Hamilton and Broadway. You’d think she was born on stage at the Richard Rodgers Theatre.

It’s kind of wild, because I raised her in a completely different world. We’re talking comic books, superheroes, action figures—she had Supergirl pajamas, Supergirl posters, Supergirl lunchbox. I literally named her after Supergirl! We watched every superhero movie together. She collected action figures like trophies. I always thought we’d be dressing up for Comic-Con together, year after year. Halloween? Always a cape involved. I had it all planned out.

But kids? Yeah, they do their own thing. I never saw Broadway coming. She found Hamilton one day and never looked back. Now there’s a giant Lin-Manuel Miranda face staring at me from her bedroom wall. She knows every word to every song. You’ll Be Back? Yeah, I actually kind of like that one. I’ve even sung it at karaoke—just to get a laugh out of her. (It worked.)

Let me tell you what I didn’t expect: watching the Tony Awards. Yep. This year, I sat down and watched the entire thing. Didn’t even change the channel once. The things you do for your kids…

Now her big dream? Go to New York City and see Hamilton live on Broadway. I thought, cool, no big deal—grab a couple tickets, book a flight, done. HA. You ever tried buying Hamilton tickets? I think it might be easier to get into a Taylor Swift concert wearing a clown suit. They cost more than my car payment. That’s why I’m out here refinancing my house—not for a new roof, not for a vacation, not for a new TV. Nope. Just trying to be the dad who makes his daughter’s dream come true.

Would I choose Broadway for myself? Nah. But seeing her light up? Totally worth it. Even if it means sitting through three hours of historical rapping. That’s love right there.