To the man who marries my best friend:
Take care of her, will you?
Remember:
She can’t have chocolate before bed but she has to have it with breakfast, or else the whole day will be ruined.
She’s gonna have to borrow your socks because I stole all of hers.
You’re gonna have to fake laugh at her punchlines because she stole all of mine.
She cooks with every pot in the kitchen so don’t expect a clean home just a
very!
very!
happy one!
And if she’s ever having one of those days,
just have her call —
well.
I guess that’s you now, huh?
The “best friend.”
I mean I’ll still be here of course but,
it’s you now.
So remember that you aren’t just marrying the grown woman:
You’re the moat around the sand castles of her girlhood and the lock on her diary.
You’re what her prom date couldn’t be and what the last guy refused to be.
Past shy glance/Current load-bearing beam/future hand on swelling belly
Provider/Pursuer/hard truth protecting the soft superstition ‘tween the ribs you gave her.
Make her feel invincible without ever asking her to be.
Ok?
Big boy?
Tough guy?
Dead man walking if you ever —
if you ever need help knowing how to love my best friend
just ask
me.
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