I’m no princess, but there’s a good joke here about kissing frogs

I've never kissed a frog. I have, however, kissed a fish. (Mayport, FL, 1993)

I’ve never kissed a frog.
I have, however, kissed a fish.
(Mayport, FL, 1993)

People ask from time to time if our RV has a name.

It’s been 18 months since we bought the thing. Shouldn’t it have a name by now?

We already know, or know of, vehicles with adorable names like Kermie, Betsy, Goldie, and BART (Big Ass Red Truck). We ourselves once owned a GPS we called Dolores, pretty much from Day 1, because she sounded so much like a Dolores.

But it took until today for RV inspiration to strike. Or maybe it was my head’s unfortunate encounter with the screen door on Monday?

Anyway. Ladies? Gentlemen? Allow me to introduce you to our freshly christened home on wheels …

The Toad

The Toad

Because as a fifth wheel, it goes where it’s towed.

And as an 8-year-old unit that has required numerous, frequent, and expensive repairs in its year and a half with us (this week: shorn off front shocks, probably as a result of the Tire Incident), I think it’s fair to say the beast’s got warts.

Thank you, Google. I'm not sure which definition I find more pleasing. Or accurate.

Thank you, Google. I’m not sure which definition I find more pleasing. Or accurate.

Our next move is Saturday, so if you’re driving between San Antonio and Castroville, be on the lookout for The BFT & The Toad!