A Proper Table Is Not a Suggestion
Joyce. The table is set.
Every host who has ever set a proper table knows this moment. The flowers are just so. The cards are written in your best hand. You’ve thought not only about who should sit where, but why — who will draw whom out, who needs a buffer, who will carry the conversation without realizing they’re doing the work. It’s invisible labor, and it’s the whole point.
Which is why nothing lands quite the same way as discovering that someone has quietly decided your careful arrangement was… optional.
Today’s Dear Mom question isn’t really about place cards. It’s about what happens when the structure you built — thoughtfully, generously — is treated as a suggestion. And what a host owes herself in that moment.
Dear Mom,
Recently, I hosted my family and my husband's family for a formal sit-down Christmas luncheon at our home. I spend a lot of time on my table adoring it with flowers, beautiful Christmas crackers, creating the menu, and putting a place card assigned to everyone. It's something my grandmother always did and I love carrying on that tradition. However, one of our guests took it upon herself to switch the place cards so her partner was sitting next to her instead of across the table. As a good hostess, what should one do in the future to prevent that from happening? I would so love your advice!
Many thanks, Jessica
Dear Jessica,
First, let me say this plainly: you did nothing wrong. You planned carefully, you honored a family tradition, and you set the table with intention. That is the job. The surprise was not yours — it was sprung on you.
I’m also with you on this: a seating arrangement matters. It’s not fussing. It’s hosting. A good table doesn’t happen by accident; it’s composed. You’re not arranging people like furniture — you’re arranging energy.
And here’s the quiet truth we don’t always say out loud:
When someone moves a place card, they’re not being romantic or helpful. They’re opting out of the experience you designed.
Now, because this was discovered at the eleventh hour, there was nothing to be done. No one wants to wrestle a place card out of a grown adult’s hand five minutes before the first course. You did the gracious thing and let it go.
But going forward? You get to be prepared.
Before guests are seated — on that final pass through the dining room — check the cards. If anything has shifted, you simply move it back. Calmly. Casually. No announcement required. Authority doesn’t need volume.
And if someone does try to rearrange things in front of you, you don’t need a speech. You just need a sentence.
Keep one of these in your back pocket:
“Let’s keep the seating as it is today — it’ll be fun this way.”
“I put a lot of thought into this table. Let’s try it.”
“Stay with me on this one.”
Then you smile, slide the card back into place, and move on.
No apology. No explanation. No debate.
This isn’t rude. It’s leadership. And leadership, when done well, feels easy — not bossy. Your guests actually want you to be in charge. It’s why they came.
Hosting isn’t about pleasing everyone in advance. It’s about creating something worth trusting. You did that the moment you set the table.
And next time? You’ll do it with even steadier hands.
— Kristy
This is always a conversation — if this stirred something for you, I’d love to hear it in the comments, or email me at DearMom@TruittHouseLiving.com.
This column first appeared in The Supper Club Magazine, January 2026 Edition.
