To the farmer I followed home… 🚜 Last night, after a golf scramble and the end-of-year golf banquet, I quickly got the golf clubs returned, gathered up the rest of our things, loaded my girls into the car, and headed home. It was getting late, everyone was tired, and I was watching the clock because bedtime was calling our names. I didn’t get very far before I ended up behind you. You took up about 90% of the road, so I decided there really wasn’t much for me to do except sit back, enjoy the ride, and keep an eye on the clock. 😂 But as I looked in my rearview mirror, I realized there were 8+ vehicles behind you—and not one of us tried to pass. We all understood. You were working. You were getting home. And we were simply along for the ride. So, from one stranger to another, I hope you know that somewhere behind you was a whole line of people who were patient, gave you space, and appreciated what you were doing. I hope your yield is at an all-time high. 🌾 I hope your lunchbox is always filled with unlimited snacks. I hope your coffee is stronger than my 7-year-old’s willpower. ☕😂 And I hope you make it home safely every night. Thanks for reminding me that sometimes getting where we’re going means slowing down and letting someone else get where they need to go first. Stay safe, Farmer. 🚜🌾