"Saturated Soils and SUV Struggles: A Westlake Mom’s Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse (Or Just a Little Rain)"

Oh, the horror! The absolute inconvenience of it all! The heavens have opened up over our precious Hill Country, and now we’re expected to—what?—deal with it? As if we don’t have enough on our plates with Pilates classes and coordinating our children’s mandatory extracurriculars.

First, the National Weather Service has the audacity to issue a flood watch for multiple counties, including our very own Travis and Williamson. Do they not realize that some of us have brunch reservations? And now we’re supposed to just… cancel because of a little water? Please. My SUV can handle a puddle or two. Or twelve.

And let’s talk about Kerr County, where the Guadalupe River is staging some kind of performance art piece by rising to 13.2 feet. Thirteen feet! That’s practically a swimming pool, and yet no one’s offering cabana service. The Texas 39 bridge might as well be a diving board at this point. Honestly, if the river wanted attention, it could’ve just joined the neighborhood Facebook group like the rest of us.

Meanwhile, in Burnet and Williamson counties, flash flooding is ruining perfectly good rural roads. RM 963 and CR 201 are now aquatic attractions, and let me tell you, the HOA did not approve this. Where’s the aesthetic committee when you need them? And don’t even get me started on the expected rainfall rate of 1 to 2 inches per hour. That’s basically a hostile takeover of our meticulously planned weekend.

But the real tragedy? The saturated soils. Our lawns are drowning, people. Do you know how much we pay landscapers to keep those grasses just so? And now it’s all going to be mud. Mud! The horror.

So here’s my proposal: If Mother Nature insists on throwing a tantrum, the least she could do is send a coordinated weather event. Maybe something between 2 and 4 p.m., after spin class but before wine tasting. And could we please get a heads-up in the form of a tastefully designed Evite next time? A flood watch is so last-minute.

Until then, I’ll be drafting a strongly worded email to the National Weather Service. Someone’s got to speak to the manager.