I asked my wife if we could buy one of these Winnebago Chieftain things, quit our jobs, and drive around the country. She said no.
I said, “But there’s a stove and a bed right inside whatever you call this thing.”
She said, “They’re RVs… from the ’50s.”
I said, “Okay, so what if I could find one?”
She said, “It wouldn’t work. They’re giant pieces of shit.”
I said, “But what if it did work, and it had this sweet-ass green shag carpeting all over?”
She said, “You get claustrophobic in Target.”
I said, “Only if other people are there.”
She said, “Where would the baby sleep?”
I said, “There’s a door that leads to a bedroom.”
She said, “That door leads to a tiny, tiny bathroom.”
I said, “There’s a bathroom in this thing? Pack your bags, man. We are leaving.”
She said, “Hon, take out the trash.”


Mrs. 2WTN sounds like she is not to be trifled with, even for green shag carpeting.