Michael and I had been together for a few years, and alternated where we spent Christmas; either with George and Irene or in Coventry with my family.  This particular year we were due with George and Irene, but Irene had broken her foot so I offered to cook the dinner at their place. 

As was the usual Christmas tradition, the neighbours popped round to raise a glass of Christmas cheer while dinners were cooking.  George, although out of practice, was drinking his usual tipple of gin and tonic, with more 'G' than 'T'.  By the time dinner was ready and the neighbours had gone home to eat theirs, George was, shall we say... merry!

The starter was consumed with much jollity, crackers pulled, more drinks consumed all accompanied by chatter and laughter.  The main course was served, and as we all ploughed our way through the various mounds of turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes and vegetables, George's slurring became more noticeable until... he fell asleep - face first into his dinner!  We managed to wake him and remove most of the squashed brussels sprout and gravy from his face, before manoeuvring him upstairs to bed, where he stayed for the rest of the day and night to sleep it off.

 
Christmases won't ever be the same without you George, Lesley xx