H came in this AM and tried to ask how I was doing but embarrassingly to him and beaten-to-death to me, he got my name wrong.
Most do. Even my godmother can’t spell it correctly. -godfather can!
‘Im alright but my name is–‘
‘You girls have too many long names that sound the same! There’s
•Laura Rae and
•[Starts with an L and ends a few syllables later with an long A sound–my given name or to the Americans, my ‘first name’].’
For them-that knowed it, I goes-by Lily — which is short for Lilymae — which is a nickname from my youth, making fun of how backwards-arsed my given name is, what-with being Hillbilly Gentry from the Ozarks.
-are the new readers gone yet?
Everybody in my family goes-by a different name.
Where was I?
I replied, ‘You livin’ in the wroooong damned state if you’re in Missouri and don’t want to sort us girls with long names!’
I don’t think k he liked that, either.
And that’s what you get for asking after me:)