Mother of the Groom Rehearsal Dinner Speech: Your Night to Host

Good evening, everyone. Curtis and I want to welcome you all to Pine Street Smokehouse—where, as Marcus and Elena like to remind us, they had their very first date. We’re so glad to have you here tonight as we get ready to celebrate tomorrow.

Thank you to everyone who traveled to be here, especially the Ortiz family—Rafael, Carmen, and Diego, you’re family to us from tonight on. Diego, we’re counting on you to keep Marcus in line tomorrow. And a big thank you to Aunt Bev for the welcome bags, and to the whole wedding party for making it through rehearsal in this Carolina heat—if you survived that, you’re ready for anything marriage throws your way.

As Marcus’s mom, I still see the little boy who gave us daily weather briefings at the dinner table. Every night, rain or shine, he’d stand with a wooden spoon and a map of North Carolina he drew on a cereal box. Dinner didn’t start until we’d heard about the possibility of precipitation. Some kids collect baseball cards—Marcus collected barometric pressure readings.

He’s still the first one to check on his grandma when the power flickers, and I know that caring heart is something Elena saw right away. But when Marcus brought Elena to our Fourth of July cookout, a big thunderstorm rolled in, and while he explained radar patterns to his uncles, Elena got drenched. She just laughed it off, borrowed my sweatshirt without missing a beat, and asked Curtis to teach her spades—then beat him twice. That’s when I knew she belonged in our family. Someone who can handle Marcus and his weather talk and still have a good time? She’s a keeper.

One memory that stands out is our family trip to Myrtle Beach when Marcus was ten. He made all five of us pack an umbrella, because he had ‘a feeling’ about storms. It was sunny for six straight days, and his little sister teased him the whole time. On the last day, as we walked the boardwalk, the sky opened up. Marcus just grinned and handed out five umbrellas from his backpack, like he’d planned the whole thing. We should have known then: trust Marcus on the forecast, and always be prepared.

What I admire most about Marcus and Elena together is that they balance each other out. Elena is the only person who can get Marcus to put the weather app down and just go for a walk, even if it might rain. And Marcus, being Marcus, always makes sure Elena has a jacket in the car. That’s what it’s all about—looking out for each other, but also knowing when to just go out into the world together, weather and all.

I do wish Pop—Marcus’s grandfather Walter—could be here tonight. He taught Marcus to read the clouds from the porch swing. I know he’d be proud of the man Marcus has become, and happy to see him find someone as wonderful as Elena.

So my advice: check the forecast together, but then go out in the rain anyway. And tonight, get some sleep—I can't wait to see Marcus waiting for Elena at the end of the aisle tomorrow.

(Raise your glass) To Marcus and Elena—may you always find joy, rain or shine.

Good evening, everyone. Femi and I want to thank you all for coming tonight, especially those who made the trip from Manchester, Lagos, and all the other far-flung places. We're so glad to have all of you here with us in Minneapolis, squeezing into this lovely little Italian spot. And a special welcome to Dale and Sue, Kirsten’s parents, and to Marion—who has kindly expanded my culinary vocabulary to include “hotdish.”

As Tobi’s mum, it’s only right I start by saying, I always knew he’d end up in sales. When he was seven, he drew up an actual contract—on lined notebook paper—lobbying for extra screen time. Two signature lines, one for me, one for his dad. He was negotiating bedtimes with the tenacity of a tiny lawyer. He has not changed much, except now his arguments come with PowerPoint slides.

I’ll never forget him cooking jollof rice for my birthday when he was twelve. He burned the pot so badly the neighbour came over to see if we needed the fire brigade. Did Tobi panic? No, he just grinned and said, “It’s party jollof, the smoky kind.” Then he charged his little sister a pound a plate. That’s entrepreneurial spirit—or perhaps just cheeky.

Then came Kirsten. The first time we met, it was seven in the morning her time. She had set an alarm just to say hello—and greeted me with “E kaaro,” after practicing all week. That’s how I knew she was a keeper. She’s also the only person I’ve seen win an argument with Tobi—and she does it so quietly, he doesn’t even realize he’s lost. I admire that.

Tobi, some arguments are meant to be lost. Kirsten, let him think he negotiated. Now, let’s all eat well and get some sleep—because tomorrow, we have a wedding to celebrate.

(Raise your glass) To Kirsten and Tobi!