The Craic and the Commitment

Right, settle down now, settle down. I'm [Your name], [Groom's name]'s brother, and I've been dreading this moment since he asked me to say a few words. "A few words," he says. In this family, nobody has ever said just a few words about anything.

Now, I have to be careful here because Mammy's watching, and she's already told me twice today, "Don't you dare say anything that'll make me look bad in front of the Murphys." So, Mrs. Murphy, everything you're about to hear is completely fictional.

[Groom's name] was always the golden child. Got the good looks, the charm, the whole lot. I got the height and the receding hairline, so fair play to him. But I do remember a certain incident involving Da's car, a ditch in Ballymore, and a very unconvincing story about a cow being in the road. There was no cow, [Groom's name]. There was never a cow. We all know it.

But in all fairness, there's not a better man in the county. He'd give you the shirt off his back and then apologise that it wasn't ironed. When [Bride's name] came along, we all saw the change in him. He started using words like "brunch" and "throw pillows." We were concerned. But then we met her, and it all made sense.

[Bride's name], you're one of us now. That means Sunday dinners, unsolicited opinions from every aunt in Connacht, and at least three people telling you the same story at every family gathering.

So, as the Irish blessing goes - may your troubles be less, and your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door.

Slainte!