And for those of you who read this blog for farts and giggles

Potty training - Zesty is on the move!

(I'm sorry. Really.  That was a crappy pun.)

(I can't help myself.)

We're doing a panel study for a large baby products company, and they are paying me to potty train Zesty.

Early last spring I was contacted by them through my blog email address, which is only used for blog stuff, to join their market testing pool.  I had an instant flashback to my childhood when Mom would receive lengthy surveys, or mystery boxes of food in the mail with no marketing or propaganda on the packages.  White boxes with black print.  We had to eat the cereal or whatever was in it, and tell Mom what we thought of it.  I don't know if she received compensation for it or not, but if she and I share any trait at all, it's the satisfaction of having our voice heard.

(Dad, I know you're reading this post, and I can hear you howling with hilarity. Stop it now.)

They had Zesty on a panel for 8 weeks total last summer for testing diaper fit. That means they paid me in a grocery store gift card and supplied three to four types of diapers per test period.  My duties were to record fit issues and thoughts on each style of diaper, weigh and keep each urine diaper, and return them to the company's testing site.

Really? You're going to pay me to do what I already have to do?  SIGN ME UP.

I've been working on getting on this potty training panel since probably late November when they contacted me about it.  I had to fill out a few survey and be interviewed in person before I was approved for the study.  They are providing me different tools and assignments every two weeks to try with Zesty. Right now it's a new little potty chair, a step stool, a DVD, and a book.  I get to keep all the tools, and just have to document his progress each day.  High fives, hugs and kisses for every effort.

The very first day, he deposited a (ahem) healthy result in the new potty chair!  A few days later, he pottied at church with someone else!  And now he wants nothing to do with his little potty chair.  It's all about the big potty and climbing up on a step stool.

Except for last night.

He had a bout of diarrhea brought on by the obscene amount of juice he drank yesterday.  A little while later, he sat on his new little potty chair, and the way things sounded, we were going to be doing a big potty dance.  But he got up - nothing to see.

He knew what was going on though, turned around, and exclaimed proudly, "THAT'S MY TOOT!!"