Whatever you do, don't open the lid.
Upon this throne sits a future President of the United States. In fact, I'm pretty sure this is exactly what George Washington's potty looked like. Except maybe for the Toy Story 3 stickers. They were probably still on Toy Story 2 back then.
Aside from its obvious flair, the best part of the potty is its portability. Whether it's precariously tucked under my arm as I furiously run it downstairs to the kitchen because Finn has decided that he's ready to go, or it's crammed in the back of the car for an aromatic trip to the cabin, this potty is made to move.
Not that it'll be moving that much starting this Friday, as we make the official transition to underwear. We're prepared to hunker down in the house all weekend so as not to get too far from the potty and/or the hot water, soap and washing machine. To prepare, I was instructed to go to Target and buy as many little boy's underpants as was legally allowed without having to register my name with the state. Apparently, this process gets messy.
Finn couldn't be happier about the possibility of putting on underpants - assured to be the exact opposite of his position on the matter in roughly 16 years. We've been letting him play with them for the last couple of weeks, which is actually way cuter than it sounds. Because it sounds kind of gross.
Even though they've never been worn. And even though they've got little Buzz Lightyears and little Maters on them. Which makes them totally adorable.
OK, I'll admit it. I put them on my head like a hat to make Finn laugh.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go register with the state.