For the daughter who made you a dad
Natalie was born on a Tuesday at 4 a.m., and I have been making it up as I go ever since. She was my rookie season. Every rule her mother and I ever invented, we invented on her — and she paid the price for all of it, from the strictest curfew in the neighborhood to the world's most supervised first date. Here's what I owe her tonight: an apology, and a thank you. The apology is for the curfew. The thank you is for turning out so remarkably that we relaxed on her brothers, who should also be thanking her. Ben, you're marrying the person who taught me how to be a father. She'll teach you plenty too. Listen the first time — it took me years, and I don't recommend the delay.
Why it works: The apology-and-thank-you structure gives the speech a spine, and the firstborn-as-test-case joke is one every sibling in the room will cheer.
Customize it: Name the specific rule you enforced hardest on her and quietly dropped for her younger siblings.
