You hear water. It's 6:30 in the morning and you think to yourself, "Man, it is really coming down out there."
Step One: Head over to the dining room window and watch as the water cascades down the window pane. Nature is amazing.
Step Two: In horror, you realize that the water is cascading down on the same side of the window you are on. You step back and like an offensive hip hop song you see that the water is indeed, FROM THE WINDOW TO THE WALL...everywhere. It's like someone turned on a faucet in your ceiling and water is pouring out of the air vent.
Step Three: This is a critical step. Don't skip it. Stand there and stare....maybe let your mouth hang open.
Step Four: Run upstairs, turning on all the lights on the way and yell for your husband to get up.
Once the two of you are downstairs and assessing the situation, surely a plan will form.
Step Five: Both of you stand there and stare. Together. Maybe hold hands. This is a moment.
Step Six: Husband gets a few buckets while you go outside and unsuccessfully shut the water off by turning all of the power off to the house. Consider running through the gate to freedom rather than facing family ever again. You could make it. They are, after all, currently in complete darkness. I'm just saying, there could be a main water shutoff "switch" instead of a "valve".
Step Seven: Come back inside and stare at cell phone while husband continues to rotate buckets. Realize there is no one a phone call away that can help you. NO ONE! YOU ARE ALL ALONE. You and your husband could be stranded for the next few days, months or years taking turns in the bucket rotation. What can I google to solve this crisis?
Step Eight: Go out into the street and wander up and down it in your red and hot pink owl pajamas and soaked house shoes looking for someone, anyone, who will save you from this disaster. Do the 360 degree turn thing in the middle of the street a la Jennifer Love Hewitt in I Know What you Did Last Summer and yell at the universe as you realize that, again, there is no one. Do this with much less makeup and way less cleavage because, well...37 year old helpless mother of two in owl pajamas.
Step Nine: Call the fire department and open your conversation with a three minute apology about the fact that what you are about to request of them, is not a real emergency and how you KNOW that you should KNOW where the valve thingies are in your house.
Step Ten: Firemen arrive and shut water off before fire engine is even cut off. Offer them one of your children in gratitude. Over thank them. To the point where everyone is just uncomfortable. Feel a little better when they tell you they do this a lot.
Step Eleven: Learn where all the valve thingies are.