6th November.My Dead Uncles Y-Fronts.

Mr H. works at the crop research place, I said my uncle used to be the director there until he had a heart attack.

They said it was the job that killed him, couldn't delegate the work, took it too seriously, no family life, all that stress etc, I think he was fifty-two.

After he died my Mother thought, since we were now moved into his former house, that it would be a good idea vis-a-vis sensible economy that I wear out his clothes including his underpants.

The fact is Mr H. had never heard of my uncle which goes to show that flogging yourself to death isn't worth it, neither are the savings from passing dead relatives underwear onto adolescents (in my opinion).