Making Sandwiches for Paul McCartney

While driving Big EZ to cross country practice at the crack of dawn the other day, I noticed a giant tour bus pulling into the nearby casino. Excited, I told him to quick google who is headlining there right now because obviously that is the tour bus of a rockstar.

"Paul McCartney!" he exclaimed. I appreciated his enthusiasm even though he has no idea who Paul McCartney is, which is yet another of my parent failings. I like to think I make up for it in the fact that both of my kids could flawlessly rap "One Week" by Bare Naked Ladies before they hit first grade.

Paul McCartney, though. We sat quietly at the light watching the tour bus turn into the casino. I explained to the boy that we were (kind of) in the presence of rock royalty. He respectfully sat shotgun and considered this.

And then it hit me. Somewhere inside of that giant tour bus there is a person who spent weeks frantically creating menus, buying food, and considering the dietary needs of a rock god and his entire entourage. That person just spent who knows how long driving across the country trying to come up with three interesting and healthy meals a day while working with what was most likely two pots and a limited water supply.

That person is about to me. I am about to be the person hoping that Paul McCartney likes his sandwich.

**Sidebar nation....it was absolutely not Paul McCartney in that tour bus. Paul McCartney is literally nowhere near Vegas as I type this. The boy's google skills are questionable at best.

The whole RV thing has come about basically on a dare. My husband thinks that when he retires we are going to buy an RV and spend our golden years following our children around the country. He assures me that he will handle all of the driving and I ......will make the sandwiches.

While a nice thought, there are a few concerns. First, he may be drastically overestimating just how far our children are going to launch. See above about trying to work google. Second, this is a man who needs a plan. Who cannot function without plan. Who did not cry at our wedding or at the birth of either child, but noticeably teared up when we returned to our cabin on the first night of our Disney cruise and discovered a typed itinerary on our bed broken down hourly and including dinner plans for the next evening. He clutched that Mickey paper to his chest and reveled in a day well planned.

He frequently tells me that "if you can predict it, you can prevent it." As someone who has forgotten children at school, goes to the grocery store no less than once per day, and has closed the garage door on not one but two cars I can confidently say that predicting things is not my strong suit. Which brings us to the magic RV binder. As his questions about my progress in trip planning increased, so did my panic. Eventually I produced a binder divided by destination and then filled it with with everything I could possible think of. I may not remember first aid kits, any sources of protein, or flashlights but I will have this binder as proof that I ....tried?

The big question is: will ten days in a rented RV be enough to put this traveling retirement fantasy to bed? Because I have some ideas about a goat farm that he really needs to get on board with.

And if you're interested in Paul McCartney, he'll be in town June 28. Just not in my neck of the woods.