My Daddy Works in His Underwear

Johnson & Johnson’s division that makes Motrin might be wanting 800 milligrams of ibuprofen right about now.

A couple of black eyes and a sore ego seems to be afflicting the group.

Seems that they came out with a campaign that suggested moms who carry their kids in slings, pouches, pappooses (or however those things are spelled) and elsewhere on the female human physique tend to get sore. Read Forbes’ take here. Marketing guy Seth Godin had a POV, too.

“It’s a good kind of pain. It’s for my kid. Plus it totally makes me look like an official mom.”

Not a nanny. Not a surrogate. Not a grandma, a bubbie, a nanna. But an “official mom.”

Avoiding for the moment any discussion surrounding what or who “An Official Mom” may really be, what about an “Official Dad.” Do we count? Does our pain amount to less than that of a mom, or are we so muscle bound and ripped that carrying junior in a papoose is just another weight disc on the barbell?

MyDaddyWorksInHisUnderwear.com is for dads who work from home.

Teleworkers or 1099ers. Corporate citizens and entrepreneurs. If you work from home — even occasionally — then this site’s for you.

And the people who love (or tolerate) you. Or appreciate the commitment you’ve made and the challenges you face. Or the fun you have — even sometimes at your own expense.

Working in your underwear is not mandatory (fully clothed is acceptable, as is commando). But it’s about a mindset, a perspective that says, “I work where my life is.”

And my life includes three kids, a wife, a dog, a hamster — and all the trappings that come in tow.

Coming soon will be a collection of stories from dads who work from home and the decisions that drove them there. Check back. Often. It should be a hoot for dads, moms, guys, gals and anyone who digs the workspace called home.

Even if you’re in your underwear.

Even as a home officer who occasionally works thriftily-clad, I can be an occasional road warrior. I go to hockey tournaments, host television media tours from NYC, watch Gator games at UF, and generally do my part to support the travel and lodging industries.

And, invariably, those trips involve sleep on the road.

So I often bring along that horse-yoke inflatable collar / pillow-like thing that’s supposed to keep me comfortable when I’m stuck in an airplane seat or slummin’ it at LaGuardia when bad weather’s cancelled my flight home.

What is the traveler to do? Blow up your TravelRest pillow.
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