Yeah, so Mr. B had this water thing when he was little. It started when he was about 2 years old, coinciding with the birth of Mr. G for anyone wishing to apply the stuff they learned in Psych 101. He flushed a toy boat down the upstairs toilet, causing the toilet to back up just in time for Christmas when my folks were staying with us. My father valiantly attempted to snake the pipes, but we ended up calling a professional. The company we called was appropriately named "Flush." For $300 they removed the entire toilet (blocked to the gills with ewgrossickickick) and extracted the plastic boat from the bowels (pun intended) of our house's pipes. This incident also resulted in some nasty flooding on the bathroom floor. We wrote it off as the natural combination of possessing a toy boat in a bathroom--of course a kid would want to see if it would float after flushing the toilet--a typhoon test of sorts.
About a month or so later Mr. B flushed another toy down the toilet in the master bathroom. Lather, rinse, repeat. The bill was more, no frequent customer discount from "Flush."
At this point I began searching for toilet lid locks. Trouble was, Mr. T was only about 5 years old and required access to the toilet. There is no toilet lid lock designed to keep out a 2 year old while allowing access to a 5 year old.
The grand finale to Mr. B's flushing obsession happened when he and Mr. T got into a fight over an action figure. Mr. B grabbed the toy and flushed it down the stool in the 1/2 bath, the third and final toilet in our house. Why flush the toy? So his brother couldn't play with it, of course. A toddler's logic is always jaw-dropping. I called "Flush" and reported the issue--we ascertained what had been flushed days after the fact when the plugged up toilet and inventory of our household items corroborated with Mr. T's testimony. (They don't call me "Sherlock" for nothing.)
The lady who answers the phone at "Flush" is one of those genuinely funny people--she asked if Robin (the Boy Wonder, sidekick to the Dark Knight AKA Batman AKA Bruce Wayne) had worn his scuba suit and taken his water purification pills before his foray into the depths of our waste removal system. Even a worn-out, sleep-deprived, overwhelmed and underpaid SAHM like me had to laugh.
And I had to laugh. My sense of humor is one reason why I saved the receipts from each of our "Flush" service calls in Mr. B's baby book. A study of these receipts indicate that it's less expensive to get through the pipes of a second story bathroom--straighter route perhaps? I save copies of the BIG bills incurred from parenthood so that when the boys ask for college tuition someday, I'll explain how they are SOL because they actually owe ME for home renovation costs. I'm kidding! But I will show them what they cost us because wouldn't you want to know? Plus it is kind of funny--years after the fact--that Mr. B cost us almost $1,000 (including the cost of 3 tried-and-rejected toilet lid lock kits) during this flushing phase.
When he was 3 or 4 Mr. B ran a garden hose from the back patio through our living room window and left it running. That flooded our living room rug, soaked several toys, couch cushions, books and stacks of magazines. Yes, yes I did lose my shit that day and screamed myself hoarse. 
Mr. B's final act took place when he was in preschool. He and Mr. G played in the basement one morning and then came upstairs for lunch before I walked Mr. B across the field to school. While Mr. G refused to nap (because all of my kids quit napping at age 2 which is another justification I give people asking "Don't you want to try for a girl?"--but seriously, who asks the mother of 3 boys if they're going to try for a girl? And if you ARE one of those people who ask that question, just quit already.) I tried to clean up the debris from lunch.
After clearing the table, I heard Violet meowing from the basement where we kept her litter box. She normally only meowed for a reason, so I headed downstairs to explore. I got to the bottom of the stairs and my foot splashed. Water was pouring out of the basement bathroom from beneath the door. The locked door. I ran upstairs for the key, unlocked the door and discovered the bathroom sink was plugged and both faucets were running full blast. They'd been running like that since before lunch sometime.
Thankfully the kid was cute and outgrew this phase. He turned out to be the best swimmer of all 3 boys and he's still mad for water. We always joke that he's growing gills because he can stay under water so long. Mr. B loves to swim and read books and watch TV shows about all things water-related. Maybe he'll be a marine biologist, deep sea explorer, scuba instructor or plumber someday. It would make sense.
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