Mother of the groom speech examples that don't sound copied

Andy's first week of college, he called me at eleven at night to ask how to boil an egg. Not how long. How.

I'm Deb, Andy's mom, and I talked him through it, step by step, while he held the phone next to the pot so I could hear the water. It took forty minutes. I have never been happier to be woken up.

After that, he called every week with a new question. How to get wine out of a carpet. How to iron a shirt. Whether you can microwave a fork. You can't. He found out.

I thought the calls would stop once he'd figured it all out. They didn't. They just changed. They were about his job, and his friends, and then, three years ago, about a girl named Lena who could make a real risotto.

Lena, last Thanksgiving you let Andy make the gravy. Alone. You stood in the doorway the whole time and didn't say a word, even when it got lumpy. He told me afterward it was the first thing he'd ever cooked that nobody fixed.

Andy, you still call me every week. Please don't stop. But I think you've got the eggs.

Please raise your glasses to Lena and Andy.

Everything on your plate tonight, I made. All six pans of lasagna. Nico told me to get it catered. I told him I'd think about it, and then I didn't.

I'm Teresa, Nico's mom, and welcome to our family's dinner. Mike and Laura, thank you for sharing this weekend with us, and everyone who flew in, thank you. There's more in the kitchen, and I will be checking your plates.

When Nico was ten, he tried to make me lasagna for my birthday. He forgot the noodles. It was a very large pan of sauce and cheese. I had two helpings and told him it was the best lasagna I'd ever eaten, and he's been cooking for the people he loves ever since.

Alex, last Christmas I watched the two of you in my kitchen, and you were the one making the lasagna while Nico stood next to you and handed you the noodles. Every single one. Nobody is forgetting them again.

Tomorrow is the big day. Tonight, eat.

Please raise your glasses to Alex and Nico.

For four years, every Sunday, my son drove two hours each way to play gin rummy with his grandmother.

He was twenty-three when it started, the year my mother moved into assisted living and stopped wanting to see anybody. Caleb didn't ask her if she wanted company. He just showed up with a deck of cards and the lemon cookies she likes, and he lost. Every week, he lost. She told everyone he was the worst card player she'd ever met, and she said it with enormous satisfaction.

I'm Janet, Caleb's mom. I didn't know about the Sundays until one of the nurses told me. He never mentioned it.

Sophie, the first Sunday you came along, you beat my mother three hands in a row. Nobody had beaten her in forty years. Caleb says she put down her cards, looked at you, and said, "Well. You'll do."

My mother passed last spring. She knew about tonight. She told me to tell you both that she was right.

Please raise your glasses to Sophie and Caleb.

I've been told the mother of the groom has two jobs: wear beige and say nothing. I'm wearing beige.

I'm Lorraine, Dylan's mom, and I'll be quick, because Erin's mother has already done this beautifully, and Dylan is looking at me the way he did when I brought his lunch to his middle school.

Dylan was a very shy boy. He hid behind my legs at every birthday party until he was seven. At his first school dance, he spent two hours in the bathroom, and then he came out and asked the only other kid standing by the wall to dance. They didn't really dance. They mostly stood by the wall together, but they did it on purpose.

Erin, the night Dylan introduced you to us, you kept the conversation going for three hours, and every time he went quiet, you'd turn to him and say, "Tell them about the thing." And he would. I've never heard him talk so much.

Erin, thank you for asking him about the thing.

Please raise your glasses to Erin and Dylan. I'll go back to saying nothing.

From the age of four to five, Harry wore his wellies to bed. Every night. We tried taking them off once he was asleep, and he woke up and cried until we put them back on.

I'm Pauline, Harry's mum. Keith and I would like to welcome Freya's family, and say a proper thank you to Stuart and Alison for making us feel at home from the very first Sunday roast.

We never found out why the wellies. When we asked, he said, "In case." In case of what, he wouldn't say. He's been an in-case person ever since. He carries plasters. He keeps a torch in the glovebox. He's the one you ring when anything goes wrong.

Freya, last winter, when the boiler packed in at your flat, Harry turned up at midnight with a toolbox, and you were already on the kitchen floor with a spanner, and you'd already fixed it. He said he'd never been so pleased to be too late.

Harry, you can leave the wellies at home. She's got you covered.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you please be upstanding and raise your glasses to Freya and Harry.

Good evening. I'm Beverly, Cole's mom, and I'll keep this short, because I've already cried twice today and the night is young.

Cole, you were the kid who always saved the last cookie for someone else. Usually me.

Nadia, the first time you came to our house, you cut the last slice of pie in half and gave Cole the bigger piece. I noticed. So did he.

Please raise your glasses to Nadia and Cole.