Wedding Toast From a Godparent (Short, About 2 Minutes)

The speech

Hello, everyone. I'm Gareth. I've been Briar's godfather since she was three weeks old, when her parents stood me up at the front of a church in a borrowed tie and asked me to promise things I didn't fully understand. I've tried to keep them anyway.

The one promise I made up myself was the hardware store. Every birthday since she turned five, I've taken Briar to the hardware store on Main Street, and she gets to pick one thing under ten dollars. At five she picked a flashlight. At seven, a tape measure, which she wore on her belt to second grade. At sixteen she picked a padlock and wouldn't tell me what for. I still don't know.

We've done it twenty-three times. Last spring, for the first time, she asked if Quincy could come.

We walked the aisles for half an hour. At the register Briar had a little brass hook in her hand, and instead of paying, she turned and gave it to Quincy and said, "You pick this year." I had never once seen her let anybody else choose. Quincy turned the hook over and said, "This one's good. It's for our keys." It's by their front door now. Two sets of keys on it.

Quincy, you're welcome on the birthday trip from now on. The limit is still ten dollars. I'm not made of money.

Everybody, glasses up, please. To Briar and Quincy. One hook, both sets of keys.

Why it works: A small, repeatable ritual shows a whole relationship in under two minutes, and the turn to Quincy happens inside that ritual. The joke at the end is on the godfather, and the toast names the object in the story.