You were a perfect hostess. The party was flawless and your bride had a lovely time. There was enough good food for everyone, everyone seems to have had fun, she enjoyed herself thoroughly, and, truth be told, so did you.
You used paper plates and napkins; you remembered to put the leftovers into the fridge before you crashed last night. Now you crawl out of bed, slip into jeans, and wander into the kitchen (which is a disaster) for a cup of coffee. You sit down for half an hour, glancing calmly at the wreckage that is your home. You stretch your legs out, read a magazine, and wait. What are you waiting for? The doorbell to ring, of course! And when it does, you open the door to the one or two maids you hired from the local maid service. They will have your place back to spotless in two hours, while you finish your magazine and take “Thank-you-I-had-a-great-time” calls from your bride and the guests.
Ah, life is perfect. You send a quiet good wish to this writer, saying, “Gee, Jennifer. You were right! It's much more important to have the house spotless after the party than it was the day of the party!” You muse how the simple truth I shared—that after five people get to your house, no one notices how dirty or clean it is—is a universal hosting truth.
When the maids leave at last, your house all tidy and fresh smelling, and you give them the check, you thank your lucky stars that you bought this book. Then you trot off to the mall.