The morning of my daughter's wedding dawned bright and sunny with crisp blue skies and not a cloud to be seen.

But it was raining...

Inside the house.

"JOEL!!!" I yelled to my husband from inside my bathroom where I had just discovered the deluge cascading from the ceiling. "It's raining in the bathroom!"

I heard his hurried steps pound up the stairs before he appeared breathless at the door.

He assessed the situation and then said succinctly, "Well, that's not good."

"Not good" was putting it mildly. We had a full house with the bridal couple-to-be in one bedroom, my son and his girlfriend in another, three bridesmaids bunked up in another bedroom and several assorted members of the bridal party elsewhere on the premises. There were three bathrooms, and apparently one of them was leaking and one of them was being leaked into. And we had a wedding to all get ready for later that afternoon.

It was like the movie "Mamma Mia!" met "Titanic."

"Turn off the water upstairs!" I shouted to my husband.

"Don't flush the toilet," yelled my husband upstairs.

"Ruff, ruff!" barked my daughter's dog, the only one who genuinely seemed happy about the mess.

Meanwhile from down below I heard my son yell, "UH-OH! Mom, it's raining down here, too!"

I raced to the floor below to find that the water that had leaked from the third-floor bathroom into the second-floor bathroom had now found its way into the first-floor bathroom. We were three for three. I started grabbing towels from the laundry room, which was still, somehow, miraculously dry, and began throwing them onto the floors to stem the flow of water.

"You know, it's supposed to be good luck if it rains on your wedding day," I said to my husband who had appeared from the basement with a wrench and a bucket.

"Outside," he replied. "It's good luck if it rains outside."

"Oh," I said.

I had to admit, it did not seem like a lucky start to the day. The good news was that it was beautiful outside and we were having an outdoor wedding. The bad news, of course, was it was cloudy with a chance of monsoon in the house. Additionally, we didn't have time to find a plumber who worked on a Sunday who could arrive immediately so we could all get ready in time for the wedding. And while my husband was handy in a "change a roll of toilet paper" kind of way, he was not handy in a "find a busted water valve and replace it without having the bathroom cave in" kind of way.

I began having flashbacks to the time we lived in a house with two adults and two toddlers and only one bathroom. The toilet broke and we were forced to use my daughter's potty for three days. It could have been worse. We could have had no potty.

I was beginning to think that we were up the wedding creek without a paddle when fortunately, my husband was able to locate the shut-off valve and get the leak plugged and the water turned back on. I was all set to get back into get-ready mode when suddenly I found a puddle in the bathroom again.

"Oh, no!" I cried. "Something else is leaking!"

My daughter appeared at my side and looked down.

"Don't worry, mom," she said. "It's only the dog."

Tracy Beckerman is the author of the Amazon Bestseller "Barking at the Moon: A Story of Life, Love, and Kibble," available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble online! You can visit her at www.tracybeckerman.com.

Photo credit: cassiazuquetto at Pixabay