How about a pic-a-nic basket?

Lately my husband and I have been trying to come up with creative ideas on how to spend more quality time with our children. I say shop, he says otherwise. TC would like to buy a camper and camp. Now, I'm OK with this (I think). Just because I'm a city girl doesn't mean I can't camp (however, do keep in mind that my idea of roughing it was sitting on a blanket at Stone Mountain Park listening to the rednecks scream Yee-Haw when Robert E. Lee broke his sword during the laser show). I think I could hang.
When my husband was younger his family had a camper and during the summer would take cool trips to places like Boston and Washington D.C. as well as hang out around Satan's Pants and go North for the the weekends (not sure how much farther north we can go without leaving America). This sounds interesting to me. However, my husbands mom and dad were both teachers so they had their summers free to go on these types of trips. My husband works constantly so there would probably be no week in D.C. and then head on up to Maine kind of thing.
Here is his solution. Buy a camper. Not one you drive but one you haul with a big truck. Park it at a camp ground called Yogi Bear and pay $2000 to stay ALL FREAKING SUMMER. I'm actually speechless about this. He's so excited - he's been researching campers, camp grounds, where to store it in the winter and everything else we would need for this great adventure. I'm trying not to burst his bubble - he's already said that this is about our children not about me (whatever), but come on. I'm just not sure how excited I am about spending the summer with some crazies at Yogi Bear park swimming in their pool, playing shuffle board and doing arts and crafts every weekend of the summer.
Now, I've actually never been to this campground. It could very well be super. However, I see toothless families with rusty campers hanging out drinking beer and burping while their kids run around with dirty faces in their diapers. I see a lot of fights between me and hubby about why I won't socialize with our "neighbors" or why I'm not having a super good time sleeping 5 deep in a 400 sq. foot camper. Or why I think the bug zapper looks a bit tacky hanging right by our "bedroom" window.
I'm having a hard time putting my head around this. In order to not spoil his fun I've been nice and not said anything too ugly. I know he's excited about taking the boys to do something that he use to do as a child. I get that. After a year maybe I can convince him to move the cinder blocks and try something different. However, if he for a minute thinks that this is my cup of tea, sitting at a park with a giant Yogi and Boo Boo statue then he doesn't know me very well at all. Plus, how many times to the "residents" really want to hear my joke about a pic-a-nic basket?