He's not overly excited about underwear - he can take it or leave it. He gets candy all the time at church. A prize treasure box? I guess I could pool all his happy meal toys with the extra dollhouse furniture.
Really, potty training is the best birth control. Just set up a nanny-cam in the home of any toddler. Filter it for some intense additional horror flick effects. Add a little slow-mo to enhance and capture the very essence of mischief that briefly flits across the face of the toddler as he internalizes the following:
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| (Once in a lifetime opportunity! Click to enlarge the image and get a glimpse into the mind of a toddler!) |
It would strike terror into the hearts of even the most stoic of parents-to-be who smugly say, "I was potty-trained at 18 months without even one little tinkle accident - there's nothing to it!"
Y'all. I even took the laptop into the bathroom and propped it up on the trash can so Zesty could pop a squat with Veggie Tales to entertain him. The negotiation and the overreacting and the pure unadulterated bribery.
So basically, college football. With a rookie coach.
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