Here's the thing. Gravity and I, we aren't friends.
If I set a hairbrush down it is pulled inexplicable to the floor. A pop can set into the minivan cup holder is destined to stop, drop and roll. Which is why I view these inflatable potties warily. I fully understand the need and worry I might have to step up and buy one once daughter is ready to be potty trained. With son we went the white trash route and peed in the alley behind the Jewel Osco. That's right, that was us. He got quite adept at standing on the edge of the minivan and arching it out the door. This was of course, an emergency maneuver. Especially, since son hasn't quite gotten the idea that "it" can be taken out discreetly. He prefers to drop trough entirely since he has no bones about what's going down.
Since daughter will be of the pop and squat category this isn't gonna fly. My sister in law Nelly brings a white plastic bucket (yes the same kind they buried their cats in) with a trash bag liner on long road trips. Nelly has coordination, as do all my husbands siblings. I've no doubt her bucket of pee remains in an upright position for the duration of her trips. Were I to transport a bucket of urine it would be spilled on the floor by the second stop light. "The pee! The pee!"
The adult version of the blowup potty does appeal to me greatly as a camping potty. Husband is a devoted tent camper and isn't interested in renting a pop-up with a potty. I really like sleeping in a tent, my issue is with raccoons that lay in wait for me to step outside at midnight to whiz. I've no doubt they'll see my big whitelady moonpie and will attack it thinking they scored a double loaf of Wonder Bread. So I pee very very close to the tent. So close that husband likes to tell everyone at breakfast that a horse wandered by last night and pissed all up and down the side of his tent. Since I'm sticking close the tent, e.g. packed earth, the sound of the pee hitting the dirt reverberates through the camp ground. Still, I'm not taking chances, those raccoons are crafty buggers.
And of course, since gravity is determined to pull me and anything I touch to the ground at all times you can only imagine that I inevitably urinate all over my pajama pants while crouching in the wilds. Since I'm the girl who will not allow any clothing worn during the daytime into her bed (don't bring that city dirty into my nice clean sheets!) this means I need to change, in the dark, in our tent. And of course all that jumping around loosens up my already trashed bladder and here we go again. So I'm pretty sure I'm getting this adult potty for our next trip. Or at least a bucket and a Hefty bag cause I really don't want to have to put my lips together and blow this baby up.