I'll admit it. My kids have a hard time understanding exactly what I do for a living. They know I sit in front of a computer, talk on the phone a lot, and do something about Tom DeLay, but they have a hard time understanding that, as compared to their friends parents who are teachers, lawyers, etc. Maybe this poem by Hart Seely, which appeared in the New York Times, can help?
Here's a small portion -- but go read it all.
This is the Jack,