Laundry detergent manufacturers have done it again; doubling the potency of detergent while cutting the bottle size in half. The Wall Street Journal talks about the marketing challenge that Procter & Gamble Co. (NYSE: PG), Unilever (NYSE: UL) and their competitors are about to face. The impetus for this move is not a greener earth or a more useful product, but instead, pressure from retailers like Wal-Mart Stores Inc. (NYSE: WMT) to squeeze more product into the same shelf space. You will be able to do just as many loads with half as much detergent, and the price will be the same per bottle. The problem is getting people to realize that and, more importantly, convince them that they aren't somehow getting ripped off.

As the Journal says, "Retailers are pushing the big shrink in detergent bottles because when their shelves are full with smaller bottles, they lose fewer sales to products being out of stock and less employee time is spent replenishing product. Retailers also save on transportation costs because more of the smaller bottles can fit on a truck. Meanwhile, manufacturers, which over the past two years have been hit hard by high oil prices, save on the petroleum-based plastic packaging as well as the costs of shipping to retailers."

Wal-Mart CEO Lee Scott's strategy of promoting the products as green-friendly makes sense, given how in vogue that is right now -- less plastic, less transportation -- it actually is environmentally friendly. But there's still the emotional, less rational problem: How do you convince someone to pay the same amount for 50 ounces as they used to pay for 100? And what's more, why do the retailers and manufacturers get all the benefits?

I remember how innocent I was, long before I was a parent. Do you remember that time? When you were young, perhaps it was the 80s, or the early 90s. You imagined bringing a baby into your home one day, certainly, it was far off in the future but the image was clear, if a bit soft-focused around the edges: all was fuzzy, wuzzy, warm, soft, and gentle. If you imagined your home with a kitchen, in fact, the knives were all tucked safely away in a hand-oiled maple block somewhere, way, way back on the counter.

[Big sound of brakes squeaking, wheels skidding, cars smashing into walls, screams...]

And then, I became a parent in the new millennium. And my world was filled with the most fearsome, warlike cutting implements. Industrial-strength scissors that came apart at the hinge so you could sharpen them daily. Hunting knives with a whetting stone, glistening next to the sink (where I keep my gentle organic hand soap). A typical day in my first child's infancy might find my knuckles raw, my fingers calloused, battle wounds all over my fingers.

I'd been faced with my children's toy packaging.