Once upon a time, we had a rainstorm that looked and sounded very, very much as if Niagara Falls was passing through on its' way to Florida or someplace. We marveled at the solid block of water and did the Dry Basement Happy Dance. Later that same week, while making dinner, I thought I heard that sort of rain again but was horrified to find the crashing water pouring through the ceiling into the back hall! It turned out the boys had been bouncing on the PVC upstairs water feed and it hadn't held up. It also turned out that we did not, in fact, have a shut-off to the upstairs...but that's a tale for another time.
More recently, Chris and I were standing in the back hall when water started tricking down again from above. Chris dashed toward the basement where he knows the exact location of the upstairs shut-off valve we now have but, before he got all the way down the stairs, I called him back - it wasn't water. Lars had gotten himself out of bed to use the bathroom and had sleepily missed the pot...the "rain" was boy-made. Thankfully, we haven't fixed the ceiling from the first disaster, so clean up was reasonable and we were chuckling about the poor kid in short order.
Tonight, we were finishing off odds and ends in the den when we heard a tell-tale trickle and we both leaped up! Chris made it to the hall first to discover a sleeping Ross, half-way down the stairs, pants down, peeing. He'd missed the bathroom and had taken the next left - the stairs - and walked down as many steps as it would have taken to get to the toilet, if he'd been in the right room.
Note to self: The back hall is no place for rugs.