Houston wears its humidity, floods from the bayous and the street, and takes hurricane wind that drives rain sideways. The air stays wet enough that a house rots, molds, and rusts without a famous storm. When the sky does turn, water rises into slab homes from the yard, and wind lifts roofs that looked fine in June. This is not a hail-and-short-freeze city. Tell the story the gulf actually writes.
Cooling equipment runs most of the year because it is also the machine that pulls water out of the air. A clogged drain pan becomes a ceiling stain in a week of ordinary humidity. Gutters and flat additions hold water against the fascia. Formosan termites and mosquitoes treat a damp lot as home. Those are Tuesday problems, and they matter as much as the night a gulf storm peels a ridge.
Floodwater and wind-driven rain are different wet. Water under the door, in the weep holes, and across the garage floor came from below or from the street. Water through the ceiling after shingles lifted came from above. Your policy often treats those paths differently, and a drying plan that ignores the difference tears out the wrong wall. Photograph the waterline and the roof opening before the debris pile grows.
Clay still moves under many slabs, so foundation watering is real, but standing water is the enemy people underestimate. Yards need a way out for a cloudburst, not another shrub against a wet brick ledge. Windows leak at failed sills when the rain travels sideways. Bath fans that dump into the attic feed the moisture the attic already cannot shed. Sort those faults by trade.
Bring the address and say whether the house is dealing with everyday humidity, water that rose, or wind that opened the roof. Do not import a northern hail script or a hill-country freeze script. The work has to match this coast. Pick the trade and call.