Saturday was going to be a busy day. We had to be up at the crack of dawn to make the buses for athletic events, I had a small window to take care of the animals, and then my day was going to be spent attending tennis and soccer matches, with E and G. A had to work all day and then had plans with friends.

And the Universe laughed and said, “not today!”

I flipped on the light in the bathroom and turned on the tap for the shower while I got busy brushing my teeth. Over the years, I’ve become very accustomed to how things in this house sound, and it only took a few seconds to realize that something didn’t sound right.

Sure enough, in another few seconds, the water in the shower stopped running, as did the sink faucet where I was brushing my teeth.

Of course, there are myriad things that could go wrong.

I immediately ruled out a power outage, as the lights were burning brightly. Running downstairs to the kitchen quickly ruled out that it was localized to my bathroom. A further investigation to the pump and holding tank in the basement … well, that’s where my troubleshooting skills ended.

Everything looked OK, nothing was smoking, but nothing was running either. A quick check of the breaker box showed that everything should have had power.

As much as I hated to do it, I had to take the next step, which was calling my brother for help. Any phone call to a member of our family at an ungodly early or late hour usually brings about a trauma response, so I hated to exercise this option, but I knew in minutes the rest of the crew was going to need the facilities, so at the very least, I needed him to open the door and let us in, unless he knew of a magical fix for the mysterious water shut off.

He didn’t, although he helpfully supplied a Googled list of emergency plumbers, unlocked his front door and went back to bed.

A call to the first one on the list got me to a call center in Rhode Island, where an extremely perky woman, with a crying infant in the background, answered the phone. “No worries,” she assured me, “we’ll have someone out in a matter of hours, and their trucks are loaded with everything. They’ll have it fixed in no time.”

Brave words for someone a few hundred miles away, but I gave her some grace since it was clear she had her hands full. A little optimism never hurt anyone, and I didn’t need to bring her into my world of everything that can go wrong will and does.

So, off the kids went to their activities, and I sat and waited. I had a pile of chores I could have been doing, but in the absence of water, laundry and dishes have to sit. Although I made sure the bird flock and the dogs had plenty of food, I could only fill up water buckets with the case of water I’d had in the back of my car, leftover from some concession stand or another.

I did some weeding, some outside sweeping, and then found myself covered with dust and dirt that I had no way of rinsing off, other than to walk over to my brother’s house and drag it all in there with me. So, I sat on the porch and thought.

It’s not the first time my plans for the day have been drastically changed by circumstances beyond my control. Thankfully, this was a little less catastrophic than previous events, but nonetheless, everything I had planned to do was on hold.

Although resources were only a phone call and a short drive away, and the inconvenience would last no more than a few days, finding myself without a necessity of life, even for a few hours or days, really upended things. I had no choice but to ask for help, and to add a little bit to other people’s burdens. It’s a lot for a family of four with two extra showers to suddenly become a family of eight.

Of course, if the situation were reversed, I’d be my brother’s first call, and our facilities would be at his disposal as well. It’s one of the perks of living next to family, but many friends reached out and offered their homes or to drop off gallon jugs as well. I’m beyond lucky to have such a support system.

I was even luckier when the technician was able to rig things together to restore just enough water to get me through the weekend and came back on Monday morning with the right parts.

No one knows when their situation may change, when they may have to rely on others for help, or even just have to ask for someone’s help. I hate being in that position, and I imagine many others do as well. A little empathy and understanding go a long way, though.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News