Georges is our late grandfather’s best pal, who continues to make himself at home at our family Christmas party. He usually arrives late, bearing a cranberry jello pie that matches his iconic holiday trousers.
While we devour our roast turkey and sweet potato purée, Georges sips slowly on his Chenin Blanc, relentlessly fighting for our Aunt Anne’s attention, with whom there’s always been a great deal of ambiguity.
As the music gets louder and some begin to dance, Georges and Anne reminisce Jimi Hendrix’s Woodstock performance n 69 –– assuring the rest of us they were the wildest spirits there.
After a lonesome Christmas in Kent last year, Georges could not be more psyched for this year’s party and for once, won’t be arriving late.