Good evening, lovely folks!
For those of you who’ve yet to have the “pleasure” of meeting me, I’m Dave, proud father of the groom, and apparently, according to my wife, Karen, the source of all dad jokes in our family. I stand before you, a man armed with embarrassing childhood stories and years of accumulated fatherly wisdom—mostly about grilling.
Now, allow me to give you a glimpse of my son, Michael, a boy who believed that superhero capes had actual powers and that vegetables were invented by parents to torture kids. Yes, it took him 20 years, three months, and four days to learn to appreciate broccoli.
Michael, I watched you grow from a lad who couldn’t tie his shoelaces to a man who… still struggles with bow ties. And here you are, stepping into a new chapter, a new adventure.
Enter Emily, the brave soul who decided to take on my son and his war with bow ties. Dear, we adore you. Not just because you laugh at Michael’s jokes—someone has to—but because you bring out the best in him. With you, he’s found his match, his equal, his lobster.
Watching Emily and Michael together is like witnessing a live comedy show. Emily, with her wit sharper than our kitchen knives, and Michael, with his… let’s say unique dance moves, they are a match made in humorous heaven.
They have this ongoing debate about who’s the better cook. Michael claims to make the best spaghetti, and Emily insists that cooking pasta doesn’t count. And I say, as long as I get to eat, may this debate last forever!
Now, a piece of unsolicited fatherly advice: Marriage is like fine wine. It gets better with age. Or it turns to vinegar. So, let it breathe, savor every note, and for heaven’s sake, don’t forget the cork!
Let’s raise our glasses—preferably filled with well-aged wine—and toast to Emily and Michael! May your journey be filled with love, laughter, countless dad jokes, and perfectly cooked spaghetti.
To love, laughter, and a lifetime of forgetting to take out the trash!