I’ve run out of uncles.

I used to have loads. My mum had four brothers and my dad had six. And they were just the real, blood-relative uncles. There were also all my aunts’ husbands and the friends of my parents whom, like any 1970s child, I’d address as “Uncle” or “Auntie”. But yesterday, my Uncle Norman died. He was my mum’s youngest brother and the last remaining one. I am now an uncle orphan. But then, of course, my generation are the aunts and uncles now. And we have been for many years. In my case, since around the time this record was in the charts.