It’s difficult for me to explain how significant Transformers were for me in the ’80s. This might get me struck by lightning, but when I was in elementary school, if Optimus Prime dropped from the heavens and asked me to repent all my sins, I’d have done it without hesitation. Not that I had a lot of sins at that time. I was probably 6 or 7 when the animated series went off the air and slid into reruns, but you get the idea.

So, when I heard about Transformers: BotBots, I immediately wanted to watch it with my son. Mostly because it was Transformers, which meant so much to me as a young boy, and I loved the idea of the two of us bonding over another reboot like we did with Cobra Kai and Masters of the Universe. But when I showed him the BotBots trailer, he pulled his brown, shaggy, shoulder-length hair behind his ears, twisted his lip in that “Are you out of your mind” teenager-y way and gave it a pretty immediate “Nope.” Honestly, I can’t blame him. He’s 15 and probably too old for the show, and when has a teenager ever been interested in anything his father has done or seen?

Sadly, there was a time just a few years ago when no matter what I suggested we do together, he was enthusiastically onboard. But now, he’s kind of grown out of hanging out with his dad, unless it’s something he finds unequivocally “Gucci.”

But when he turned down BotBots, his 7-year-old sister, Aspen, was watching over his shoulder and interested in everything her big brother was into. As my son walked away to play Roblox, Aspen said in a heartwarming chirp, “I’ll watch that show, Daddy!” She smiled, her two front adult teeth still creeping past the gums, and I was grateful for the offer, no doubt about it. But I also felt this sense of urgency to spend time with my daughter before she decided she too wasn’t all that interested in spending time with me. 

Suddenly, Aspen and I were diving into BotBots and talking about Transformers, my childhood and how cool it was to have toys that transformed into cars or trucks or jets. We watched the show while looking up YouTube clips of original Transformers toys and clips from the original cartoon. Then we talked about BotBots and laughed about how cool it would be to meet a transforming hamburger. 

We looked up BotBots toys and got goofy over how cute they were. On a whim, we ordered a few. Then we looked up Transformers toys from the ’80s that are collectibles now. We were shocked by how much they’re worth, and we lamented over how wealthy I’d be if I still had that vintage Optimus Prime from when I was her age. Well... I suppose “wealthy” is subjective. We’re talking about a few hundred bucks but, according to Aspen, “If you still had your toys, Daddy, you’d be a gazillionaire.” She raised her eyebrows, her blue-green eyes growing wide, imagining how all my financial worries would’ve been erased if I’d just invested in my future by investing in my old toys. 

But as the BotBots episodes went on, something changed. We stopped talking about my childhood and started discussing the show. Eventually, our screen time became less about my longing for nostalgia and more about what was happening in the here and now, which was, ultimately, Aspen’s childhood. She laughed at the neurotic mall security guard and imagined how random it would be if our underwear turned into robots. 

Then, Aspen asked me a deep philosophical question that only a 7-year-old could come up with: “If you ate a cupcake that was really a Transformer, would that be like killing the cupcake?” 

“Gosh, I don’t know, kiddo. I’ll have to get back to you on that one,” I said. And as we both thought about it, we ended up pausing the show to search for cupcakes in the pantry and then wondering, just before taking our first bite, if those Hostess cakes were really alive. Looking at Aspen huffing down her cupcake, I realized this all might have been part of some well-played plan to get us to eat cupcakes. Well played, kiddo. Well played.

I’ll be the first to admit that it can be hard to connect with younger kids, even when they’re your own. And sure, Transformers: BotBots is very different from the show I watched back in the ’80s, but it was just enough of a blend of nostalgia and novelty for Aspen and me to feel a connection, both of us snuggling on the sofa, eating cupcakes and wondering if any of the random objects in our home ever came to life and had dance parties in the night. 

Aspen even suggested we get up that night and check, and like any wise and exhausted father would, I did my best to kindly shoot that suggestion down. “Yeah,” I said, “how about we just let them have their fun so we can sleep?” Then I changed the subject with another cupcake.

It felt as if the decades between my childhood and hers weren’t so far apart anymore. And then the craziest thing happened. As Aspen and I laughed, my teenage son walked in and asked what was so funny. Maybe it was the warmth Aspen and I were sharing, or maybe it was the cupcakes, but sure enough, he ended up next to me on the couch as we started the last episode, listening to Aspen tell him how “Daddy’s toys could have made us rich” and sharing our cupcakes.