Father of the Bride

---

I used to think a wedding

was a simple affair.

Boy and girl meet.

They fall in love. He buys a ring.

She buys a dress.

They say, "l do."

I was wrong.

That's getting married.

A wedding is an entirely

different proposition.

I know.

I've just been through one.

Not my own,

my daughter's--

Annie Banks-MacKenzie.

That's her married name--

MacKenzie.

I'll be honest with you.

When I bought this house 17 years ago,

it cost less than this blessed event...

in which Annie Banks

became Annie Banks-MacKenzie.

I'm told that one day

I'll look back on all this...

with great affection

and nostalgia.

I hope so.

You fathers will understand.

You have a little girl...

an adorable little girl

who looks up to you...

and adores you in a way

you could never have imagined.

I remember how her little hand

used to fit inside mine...

how she used to lover to sit on my lap

and lean her head against my chest.

She said I was her hero.

Then the day comes when she wants

to get her ears pierced...

and wants you to drop her off a block

before the movie theatre.

Next thing you know, she's

wearing eye shadow and high heels.

From that moment on

you're in a constant state of panic.

You worry about her going out

with the wrong kind of guys...

the kind of guys

who only want one thing.

And you know exactly

what that one thing is...

because it's the same thing you wanted

when you were their age.

Then she gets a little older...

and you quit worrying about her

meeting the wrong guy...

and you worry about her

meeting the right guy.

And that's the biggest fear

of all because...

then you lose her.

And before you know it, you're sitting

all alone in a big, empty house...

wearing rice on your tux,

wondering what happened to your life.

It was just six months ago

that it happened here.

Just six months ago

that the storm broke.

Annie had been studying

for her masters in architecture...

for the past semester in Rome.

I remember I was at work,

walking through the factory.

I own a company called Sidekicks.

We manufacture athletic shoes.

Anyway, I remember

how preoccupied I was that day.

- I'm sorry, Mr Banks.

- My fault, Grace.

Annie had never been that far away from

home, and she was due back any minute.

I couldn't wait

to see the kid.

George, she landed.

My daughter has been studying abroad,

been flying for 11 hours.

I'm not wild about her being

in the air. You have kids, Juan.

You understand. It's-lt's better

when they're on the ground.

I've always been

a concerned parent.

I'm big on car seats,

seat belts, bedtimes, curfews...

calling when you get somewhere,

never running with a sharp object.

- Hi, George.

- What can I say? I'm a father.

- Worrying comes with the territory.

- Is Nina picking her up at the airport?

- Yeah.

- And you're gonna meet them?

Yeah. Yeah,

I'm going home right now.

I, uh-- My keys are--

- Here.

- Oh, yeah. Sorry.

- And sign this.

- Okay.

- Hat.

- Okay, thanks. Now-- Oh!

- Okay. Bye.

- Bring her by.

I left work early because I had

a little something to pick up

for Annie's homecoming.

We live in a small town in

Southern California called San Marino.

I love this town, and not

just because it's the kind of place...

where people still

smile at each other...

- Bye.

- but because it hasn't changed much

in the past 25 years.

And since I'm not a guy who's big on

change, this town fits me like a glove.

I got Annie's ten-speed

all cleaned up and polished.

New seats, new tyres.

I couldn't wait to show it to her.

This is our house.

24 Maple Drive.

Annie was just in grammar school

when we bought it.

A few years later, we got

a surprise package-- our son Matt.

I love this house.

I love that I taught my kids...

to ride their bikes

in the driveway.

I love that I slept with them

in tents in the backyard.

I love that we carved our initials

in the tree out front.

This house is warm in the winter,

cool in the summer...

and looks spectacular

with Christmas lights.

It's a great house,

and I never want to move.

But the think I think

I like best about this house...

are the voices I hear

when I walk through the door.

- Hey. Hi. You got out early.

- Hi.

- Where is she?

- Oh, she's, uh, unpacking.

She looks-- She looks so fabulous,

just fabulous. Different.

- Anyway, she can't wait to see you.

- Different.

- Ciao, Papa.

- Hey.

Annie brought me this candy bar

all the way from Rome.

Let's not get it

on our American furniture.

Matty. The high tops.

- Hey, grazie.

- Hey, you're welcome.

- What do you mean, different?

- Oh.

- Annie.

- Hi, Dad.

Hey, hey, hey!

- God, I missed you.

- You look all lit up inside.

Oh, I feel

all lit up inside.

- Maybe we should go to Rome

for a few months, honey.

- Oh, you two would love it.

It's the most romantic place

on Earth.

- You smell pretty good too.

- Oh, you like it? It was a present.

Doesn't she look incredible?

I almost didn't recognize her.

Come on. Dinner's on the stove.

Honey, you wanna come?

Oh, Mom, I had this pasta in Florence.

I forget what it's called.

All right. Now that

we're all back under one roof...

we have some very important items

to discuss.

First on the list: Who wants to go

to the Laker game on Thursday?

- Oh.

- Me. Definitely yes.

Okay, and with

your busy schedule too.

Honey, I can't. I have

inventory to do that night.

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