It’s three more sleeps until the big day. From having to explain to Auntie Carol why you’re still single (and loving it) at 21, to listening to your Dad trying to out-do cracker jokes (soz Pa, don’t quit the day job), it’s an obstacle course in getting through the day without falling out with someone / passing out on the sofa / ending up as the ‘bad child’ because you had too many Mimosas for breakfast and burnt the turkey when you were really trying to help.