I really went to bed an hour ago, I promise. But I've been tossing and turning ever since.
What if the caterer doesn't show up to my wedding 36 days from now? That's what I've been wondering. How can I face 200 people and tell them they have to be hungry?
My absolute, worst case scenario stands this way: as long as we get 24 hours' notice that the caterer won't show up, we can get meat trays from the nearest grocery store, buy out their bread section, cut the crusts off said bread, make pretty signs with the formula for the finger sandwiches we planned to serve them, provide various and sundry supplies, rent some extra drink dispensers from Tents & Events, and have a picnic where guests can make their own sandwiches. Hopefully the youth of Greg's church/various relatives won't mind pitching in to make it all happen.
I even have my explanatory speech planned out, because it's 2:30 in the morning and I've been tossing and worrying for the last hour:
Welcome! We're so pleased all of you took the time to come to our wedding. When Greg and I started flirting just over two years ago, I don't think either of us had any idea that it would end up going this far. But we're obviously very excited. The road has not been without its bumps -- for instance, yesterday we got the call that the caterer couldn't make it to our wedding today. Yep, I'd call that a bump. [wait patiently for nervous laughter] So what we had originally planned to serve you, a high tea, has become more of a picnic instead. We've provided the ingredients for our favorite finger sandwiches and their formulas over here on the buffet, and if you don't mind, you can take a hand in making your own sandwiches. Over there in the back are the scones made by my lovely mother, and on the drink table is mint lemonade stockpiled by Grandma Beulah, hot water for tea, and coffee. Feel free to take your table's tea pot and fill it for your tablemates.
Again, thank you for coming. I hope you like picnics.
And this is why I gave up caffeine. Can you imagine a weddinged & caffeined & insomniac Mackenzie? Truly not a pretty sight.
Hey Mom, you know how I always thought hot milk was real gross? I'm finding it's calming. With a little honey in it to sweeten the deal.
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3 comments:
Aw, don't worry. The caterer will show up, the flowers will be gorgeous, nothing will fall down or break or get lost or otherwise go wrong. Promise. And if it does, you have a small army of people waiting to help make it right. It will be a lovely day, and the worst that will happen is my little brother (as opposed to my merely younger brother, who is no longer little) loudly announcing that tea is gross and he wants a grilled cheese sandwich. Everything's going to be fine.
Hey Mackenzie,
I think the speech sounds great, even if the worst happens we will be okay. Basically we need Rick and the marriage certificate to show up and the day is made in my book. '~'
My parents cancelled the caterer and had meat trays from the grocery store.
And They Lived Happily Ever After.
Your caterer will not cancel.
And if they do, I will pitch in with the crust-cutting.
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