I think five days is just about my limit for camping with Pete and the kids. By the end of that time, the camper feels far too small for a family of five, even if the great outdoors is right at our doorstep.
We see these huge behemoths of RVs roll up alongside us and think, "Ahhhhhh, sweeeeeeeeet." We envy them their closets and toilets and showers and hot water and flat screen TVs and surround sound stereo systems. They never seem to come out and hang out at the campground, carrying in dirt and soot and sand from the outside world into their inside haven.
More than 23.5 hours* of the day, I'd say they aren't kamping, they're just living in a mobile home that is, in fact, mobile. Why go to other places if you're not actually going to go outside? Why waste the money or the gas or, gasp, the carbon? [Go polar bears!] Why bear the brunt of angry compact car drivers as you barrel past them at your top speed of 52?
To be the envy of those little people at kampsite 83. The ones with the pop-up camper. The ones who can't see that the tent dwellers view them in much the same way as they view the behemoths.
Those who dwell in moving houses shouldn't throw rocks.
*For about 27 minutes each day, I would choose their RV. Those are minutes spent in public restrooms, showers, and dishwashing facilities.