Best Man Speech for Childhood Friend

Hello everyone! I'm Marcus, and I've known Danny since we were seven years old when his family moved in next door. That's 25 years of friendship, which means I have 25 years of embarrassing stories. Don't worry, Danny—I'm only using the PG-rated ones today.

We grew up doing everything together. We learned to ride bikes together—well, I learned to ride a bike. Danny learned to crash into Mrs. Henderson's prize-winning roses. We started a "business" selling lemonade, which lasted exactly one day before we drank all the inventory. We even went to prom with dates who were best friends, which seemed like a great plan until both of them spent the whole night complaining about us to each other.

But through all those years, through high school, college, and now adult life, Danny has been the most loyal friend anyone could ask for. He's the guy who drove four hours to help me move into my first apartment. The one who showed up at my dad's funeral when I needed him most. The friend who tells me I'm being an idiot when I need to hear it, and who celebrates with me when things go right.

And then he met Lisa. Now, I'll be honest—when your best friend starts dating someone seriously, there's always that worry. Will she get his terrible jokes? Will she understand why we still watch cartoons on Saturday mornings? Will she accept that we have a standing weekly pizza night?

Lisa, you passed every test with flying colors. You laugh at his jokes—which is generous, considering their quality. You join us for cartoon marathons. And you've even learned to make the pizza nights better by actually knowing how to cook, unlike Danny, who still thinks cereal is a valid dinner option.

Danny, my brother from another mother, here's what I know: you've found someone who makes you want to be better while loving exactly who you are. That's rare. That's special. That's what you deserve.

So everyone, please raise your glasses. To Danny and Lisa—may your marriage be filled with laughter, may your adventures be many, and may Lisa never discover just how bad Danny was at Mario Kart growing up. We'll keep that secret forever, buddy. Cheers!