We’re on a cross-country road trip with our 5-year-old who has a bladder the size of a pea. When he needs to go, he needs to go immediately lest we suffer the consequences of the great flood inside our car. We’ve seen our share of frightful potties along the way. The open-air rest stops in the desert always worry me, especially when I see the “watch for rattlesnakes” signs. But I was at a complete loss when in the vast emptiness of west Teas my son announce, “I gotta go.” There probably wasn’t an exit in sight for another 60 …read more