Battle of the sexes: hot wheels

Believe it or not, my trusty Blazer has seen better days. It's been a faithful companion from Wichita Falls to Waco and beyond. But I get to drive the Pathfinder and just reminisce about my old car while Nick actually deals with it. Getting to the point: we're finally talking about actually buying a new car. Not today, but soon. Soon-ish.

Nick wants a Camaro.

I say fine. As long as you can fit a car seat in the back.

So we went on a field trip to the Chevy dealer, car seat in tow.

Before I make myself sound like an old ball and chain, mind you that Nick was a little disappointed in the quality of the interior, the pick-up on acceleration, and the enormous blind spot. I'm not the only rain on his Camaro parade. But back to my story...
The car seat fits in the back seat. Technically. As in, you have to put the passenger seat all the way up and collapsed forward and then kinda jimmy the car seat sideways to wedge it through the hole. [Disclaimer: No babies were harmed during this demonstration.] And then the passenger (that would be me) has to sit with her seat leaning a little forward and her forehead almost in the windshield. But technically, the car seat fits.
Nick commented later in the day on the death of his dream. I told him I was sorry he ended up disappointed. He replied...

Eh, it's no big deal. Now I'll just have to get an Infiniti.