Today I'm trying to remember the speech I'm going to give at my oldest daughter's wedding. The wedding is next Friday but by the time you read this it will be last night, because I submitted this column a week before it was published. So as I write this, my daughter's wedding is a week away – which was yesterday.
The father of the bride's speech is a piñata game in which the FOTB swings seriously – more often than not taking the eye of the groom's mother, or injuring some aunt driving from one's house Old people come and anoint themselves with lavender perfume, in it. trying to hide the scent of death, paradoxically becomes an explosive memento.
Credit: Robin Cowcher
I have witnessed much collateral damage caused by the father of the bride during sloppy wedding ceremonies after he wore oversized clown shoes and ripped up her catalog of pre-marital sexual encounters. himself, his daughter's misguided journey through puberty and the groom's true failures. man.
I once heard a speech in which FOTB said that everyone admired his daughter's perseverance, cited her efforts to become a normal-sized woman, and said that although she never achieved it, she always wanted to succeed. Latest diet. The unintentional takeaway from FOTB's speech is that the bride is very suggestible and fat beyond repair. Thanks Daddy.
I hope I didn't hurt anyone last night (i.e. next week) with what I said or will say. First, I will (I did) welcome Tom's family to the genealogical penitentiary that is the Cameron family. Then there's a little joke about how my siblings have been treating me like pigs – they'll be tense and expecting a beating, so best get it out of the way. Next I will toast our absent friends – our dearly departed, the people who made us who we are.
And then there's the meat of the matter… Asta's appearance in our lives. It goes like this: “I am breaking the patriarchal pact when I tell you that men are both confused and horrified by the appearance of a child. Nowadays, men often tell you that the day they give birth is the happiest day of their lives. They are lying through their vape-stained teeth to get postpartum recruits.
I spent my whole life cultivating a reputation as a tough asshole, only to realize… I wasn't.
“Becoming a father is like receiving a rare, fragile jellyfish. 'Here, keep this thing alive if you can. Take care of it for a quarter of a century. Teach him addition and subtraction and tying shoe laces. Feed it beans and broccoli. Indulge its every whim and cater to its every taste. And this privilege will only cost you a million dollars… and your freedom.' A baby is a terrible and terrifying curiosity to a man.”
After the harsh attack on the nursery, I will have to make amends. A speaker must reverse every silly joke with an emotionally counter-rhythm if they don't want to put the crowd offside. So next I will tell the wedding guests how I fell in love with Asta. And that's when trouble will start for me. I'm afraid I'll become irreversibly mired in my emotions. I spent my whole life cultivating a reputation as a tough asshole, only to realize… I wasn't. Or, I am no more.
