Duration: 45.3s

Please. Please. Don't worry. Don't worry. It's utter chaos around here. And I'm terrified that we're running out of time. Am I trying to be too perfect? - Oh, but I want it to be so exquisite. - So do we. - But we're trying to be too exquisite. - Why not aim for the stars? - Good morning. - Good morning. - We do need some answers on the flowers. - Ah, yes, freesia, freesia. Everywhere freesia. Daddy loves freesia. Good morning. Good morning. Oh. Hello. Hi. - Lights? - "Lights. " Not too bright and not too dark. I'm looking for a saffron glow, sort of tea-dance '20s. If food is the prose of a party, then lights are its poetry.