Two Months Until the Wedding (Send Wine)

Y’all. The seating chart is trying to murder me.

Two Months Until the Wedding (Send Wine)

I’m sitting here surrounded by what looks like the aftermath of a paper explosion, trying to figure out how to seat 127 people without starting World War III at our reception.

Marcus keeps asking innocent questions like “Why can’t your Tia Rosa sit with my Aunt Helen?” and I keep saying “Trust me” because some family dynamics are too complicated to explain to someone who comes from a family where the biggest drama is whether to serve potato salad or coleslaw.

When he asks why Tia Rosa can’t sit with Aunt Helen

Meanwhile, Carmen (bless her controlling little heart) sent me a color-coded Excel spreadsheet with seating suggestions, dietary restrictions, and what I’m pretty sure is a full psychological profile of every guest.

Carmen’s spreadsheet is terrifyingly organized

I hate that I’m actually using it. Don’t tell her.

Send wine. Seriously.

At this point I’m ready to elope to Vegas, but my mother would literally never speak to me again and Abuela Rosa has already bought her outfit. Two more months, people. Two more months and then we can all drink heavily and pretend this was fun.