The vacation we almost took.

I am a planner, worrying the future and trying with OCD, forethought, and anxiety to get every last thing right.

I was like this before I had a family, dreading that I might arrive somewhere and wish I had an umbrella, a book, a coat, a flashlight, the perfect shoes. Sometimes I was lugging too much stuff with me, but on the occasion when I was the only one with a corkscrew in my bag on a picnic, I could feel like a hero.

Having more beings in my orbit means there are more variables, but I still want to be prepared. Some might wisely learn from children that it’s impossible to know what situations you might end up in, the kids won’t want what you’ve brought anyway, and as my husband is fond of reminding me, “there are stores anywhere we’d go.” But having driven around Austin with small children whining in the car looking for a phone charger, I can tell you I much prefer bringing the dang thing in the first place.

So I found myself recently, distraught over the fires in LA and worried about friends and family without any way to help, trying to re-engineer our Spring family trip. I had dreams. I had a better idea. What if we found just the right spot and rented a condo with multiple bedrooms so everyone could have their space, even bring a friend if that worked out? I Airbnb’ed myself into 6 or 7 possible condos. Google mapped the streets of my dream location, trying to anticipate each family member’s objections and wishes. Dragged poor Jay into looking with me at the candidates. (“Well, I’m overwhelmed, but you’ve done so much work, of course I’ll come look.” This is what love sounds like, and I’m a lucky man.)

I felt like a genius, coming up with a better option that my son would like, but in the end it was he who undid my plans. He and my husband both love to do exactly the same thing at exactly the same place. Stinson Beach is followed by a milkshake at the Parkside Snack Bar, no matter the weather. When we arrived at Universal Studios Orlando a few years ago, we discovered our son’s true main goal was a giant Simpsons donut he remembered from years earlier at Universal Studios in California.

In this case it was a smoothie by the pool. He wanted to go to the same place, swim in the same pool, enjoy the same virgin strawberry daiquiri that he “always” has, and no amenities were going to dissuade him from this goal.

So we’re back to our original plan, which now has the benefit of being stress-tested. And I’ve got a new idea for some other time. My fevered daydream was a pleasant enough distraction from the awful news. I’ve had whole vacations, triumphant or ruinous, that never happen beyond my daydreams. And in these reveries, you can be sure, I always arrive with just the right weight of sweater, and the perfect shoes.