I'm the middle of three children, with a brother two years older and a sister two years younger. When we were real little, my brother and I would follow dad around the house, including standing there, marveling at his morning ritual of lathering up, shaving, brushing his teeth and wrinsing. We had a plastic solo cup dispenser next to the sink, and when my brother was able to reach a cup, fill it in the sink and wrinse his mouth just like dad, I was insanely jealous. One night, I managed to secure a cup, and since I couldn't quite reach the sink, I dipped it in a plastic wash basin that was in the tub. (Unbeknownst to me, my mom was using it to soak my sister's diapers in Clorox). I took a deep swig, and remember coming down the stairs telling my parents, "That water in the bathtub tastes funny." Mom called poison control, and dad started pouring milk down my throat. Needless to say, I survived.
In a closely related episode, just about the time my parents had finished up my potty training and I was checked out to fly solo in the bathroom, we watched 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. I was terrified by the giant squid, and my brother told me that sometimes, they will reach up through the pipes and suck people through the commode. I needed a bit of re-training after that.
Despite these childhood incidents, I've grown extremely fond of my bathroom, and get a lot of quality reading and thinking done there :-)