It’s Sunday evening, and suddenly I’m paralyzed with anxiety about next Saturday’s shower.
My shower earlier this month was a success and I contribute that success largely due to the fact that my mom was on standby forÂ mishaps. With her as my assistant, I could be a congenial host.
This Saturday is another story. I’m expecting double the guests. The shower is at 10 a.m., leaving far less prep time than my late afternoon shower allowed.
I’ll have a cohost, but she doesn’t know her way around my kitchen and it’s out of my comfort zone to give orders (e.g., take out the garbage, pour mimosas, refill the muffin tray).
The wise Barefoot Contessa once said the best gift you can give your guests is a host who enjoys her own party. And I’m going to try really hard. But I often feel about as graceful in my own kitchen as an elephant in a china shop.
And that’s preparing a meal for just two people.
How will I smile and entertain for 30 plus if my egg bakes are burnt or the 42-cup coffee urn runs dry?
I wish I could find a replacement mom to stay on gaurd in the kitchen. Next Saturday I simply won’t have that luxury.
Instead I’ll have to do exactly what she would do: take care of every possible detail before Saturday ahead of time. And relax.
A quick mimosa before guests arrive won’t hurt, either.