Don't put your head in the bidet, sweetie

I know bidets are supposed to be superfluous to Brits' bathroom requirements, but my son, Tommy, is half Italian and therefore should have an inbuilt bidet-gene. Clearly, though, it hasn't fully kicked in yet. I found him this morning, having filled up the bidet, trying to stand upside down in it. He's fifteen months old. They just don't tell you this stuff in the baby manuals, do they? Chapter fifteen: What to do when your child develops a bidet-fixation. I've now had to confiscate the plug and resorted to keeping the bathroom door closed at all times. When I need to use the bathroom myself, and of course small fry wanders in with me (always better to have him cause havoc within sight, I've found), I have to plan it beforehand (if it's a number 2, that is). In order to keep him away from the bidet, which is to my right, I line up his bath-time animals, balls and books, together with every shampoo, conditioner and bubble-bath bottle on the side of the bath, which is to my left. From trial and error I have worked out that I then have roughly three minutes to do what I need to do before he has flung everything into the bath and is moving stealthily towards the bidet. It's do-able. On the few occasions my husband has had Tommy in the bathroom with him for his number twos, I've heard yelps and squeals as he's tried to contain him before the two of them have exited, soaked and exhausted after a bidet-based battle. My husband is used to a fifteen-minute PSP-break, not a three-minute, controlled exercise in speed-pooing and water damage limitation. Apart from the bidet, Tommy is also obsessed with the bath, the toilet and the sink. Before the bathroom lock-down, I found car keys, dummies, remote controls and bananas in the toilet, and I've lost count of the number of times I've gone into the bathroom to find his socks, coats, building blocks, books and bits of bread at the bottom of the tub. Bath-time itself is a pleasure in as far as he loves it and enjoys himself immensely, splashing as he does, playing that fabulous game of 'let's get as much water as possible onto the bathroom floor', but getting him out of it is a struggle. We've tried asking him politely if he's ready to come out and he very politely shakes his head and carries on splashing. We've tried leaving him in there until the water gets cold and he stays in there. We've tried pulling the plug out and still he stays there. What can I say? He's a Bath Boy.