My Christian name is Lucinda, but everybody calls me Lolly, that’s short for lollygagging ‘cause I’m what you might call a dilly-dallier, that means I can’t never get nowhere fast.
Mama says I started off fiddlin’ even before I was born, took me ten months to do what my sister Ladonna done in nine- and I might even believe her if she’d quit saying that’s why I’ll always be younger than Ladonna- ‘cause I know that part ain’t true.
Daddy says there’s nothing wrong with takin’ time to smell the roses, when I’m dawdling and he can tell it’s startin’ to get Mama’s goat- but that don’t stop him from cussin’ under his breath when I’m takin’ my own sweet time in the bathroom and he has to wait to get in there to take his morning constitutional.
My teacher, Miss Gibbons, told me once I’d be late for my own funeral if I didn’t quit dragging my feet- when what that really meant was she’s in a big old hurry for everyone to line up single file, so she can dump us off in the cafeteria and go smoke cigarettes in the teacher’s lounge.
Mrs. Ostroski, she runs the library, don’t seem to mind when it takes me longer than the rest of the class to pick out my books, in fact she told Miss Gibbons to hold her horses one day when she was getting all antsy waiting for me to check out- she said my lingering was a sign of having a novel approach toward life and should be encouraged- which makes me think she has her heart set on me being a librarian some day.
No one ever asks me why I ain’t in no hurry, ‘cause if they did they’d know, it’s ‘cause the day they all thought Daddy flattened a whole possum family under the wheels of his big ol’ truck on our way to church- they was wrong- he didn’t get ‘em all.