Where Is My Super-Suit?

Batman has his cowl. Superman wears his tights. James Bond slips into a tuxedo like it’s his second skin. Indiana Jones never loses his hat. The Incredidad wears a tee-shirt and shorts. All of these men have three things in common:

  1. They’ve all saved the world from time to time.
  2. They have their own version of a super suit.
  3. They all get the girl.

Moral of the story is – Women love a man in uniform.

All dads have one. My dad wore polo shirts and jeans. Bex’s dad wears his trademark white tee-shirt. I’m sure their dads wore the same outfit all the time too. Whether it’s done out of convenience, style, or functionality, it is the great perk that IncrediDad’s throughout history have been able to design their own super suits.

Look back at family photos from the 1950’s. Dad was dapper. He wore a white button up with a starched collar and bow ties. Dads pretty much looked like Don Draper. Unless it was bowling night. Then he really got to show off with a short sleeve button down (untucked of course) that came in a variety of obnoxiously loud neon colors.

As times change, so have dad’s super-suits. We’ve all loosened up on the starch and embraced a more casual wardrobe. At least I have.

I’ve had jobs where I wore swim trunks, jobs where I wore a uniform, business casual, and even a suit. I used to try and dress nice. I still can when the occasion calls for it. But there came a point when I was sick of getting spit up, blueberry juice, and other baby fluids on my good clothes. Plus, how am I supposed to get down and dirty at the park when I’m in a pair of pants I don’t want stained?

 

A former life. A former dress code.
Where’s my super suit?
Here is my Bruce Wayne/ Clark Kent look.

 

They say dress for the job you want, not the one you have but I finally have the job I want. This new job I have, the one I’ve had for about ten months, the one were I am responsible for raising a mini-me, doesn’t require a tie, shiny shoes, or a name tag.  So I started wearing gym shorts and comic book t-shirts. I could care less if I got food stains or sticky fingers on my pant leg. If my shirt has a permanent white spot on the shoulder from spit up and snot stains on the sleeve, who cares? Who am I trying the impress, the check out lady at the grocery store?

My super suit is functional, comfortable and doubles as modern art done by my toddler. Think about it. Those shorts could be worth millions someday as an original Wonderboy! In the meantime, they’re built to withstand whatever punishment and puree a baby can dish out.

I’ve gotten so used to it that I just fall into these clothes like a second skin. No one ever says anything and Bex never complains. However, something happened today that made me consider dressing up a little more often.

We work opposite hours most days. Bex works the mornings, I work nights. We are two ships passing in the night. Today was a rare day off for Bex while I still had to get ready for work. When she saw me in my shirt tie and vest (typical business casual), she stopped, asked me to turn around for her, then said, “Wow. You look hot.”

I’d been wearing shorts and tee shirts around her for so long now that I’d forgotten how much she likes to see me “put together”. I began to wonder how many of those 50’s husbands went through the reverse but similar conversations with their stay-at-home wives. Darling, why don’t you freshen up a bit. Put on a dress and some make-up. The Petersons are coming over for coffee.

We laughed about it and I explained my super suit logic to Bex. Who knows if she bought it, but she let me get away with it. Though, after today I think she will expect me to wear “the super suit” less and put in a little effort for her.

Okay IncrediDads, what does your super suit look like? Let me know in the comments below.

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