I've had my bike stolen, which is extremely annoying, not least because I'll have to walk to work for the next couple of days and maybe longer until I can get a new one. That'll teach me to leave it chained up in Nottingham city centre after dark for half an hour.
But to cheer me up, I've got in touch with a super-distant cousin (we've got great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandparents in common) on a genealogy website and discovered the extensive family tree of the Culpins, whom my great-granddad married into. The great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was Richard Culpin, born around 1675, and the family line from him to me goes through his son Richard Culpin b.1700, his son Richard Culpin b.1727, his son Richard Culpin b.1766, his son Richard Culpin b.1797, his son Richard Culpin b.1828 and his daughter Sarah, who married William Pridmore.
Richard Culpin VI, funnily enough, waited until his fourth son (and tenth child overall) to carry on the chain of Richards, and Richard VII died as a baby. If I was the sixth Ben Pridmore in a family tree, I would've made sure to have had at least eight or nine sons by now, all called Ben, just to make sure the family tradition continued.