Brandon Earnhardt Leister

by Katie on October 25, 2011

A few weeks ago, we were driving through the farm, either working or just checking on things. Whatever the case, Brandon felt the need to drive as if he were participating in the Indy 500, rather than in a vehicle with his wife on the farm.

Meanwhile, I was over in the passenger seat…flipping clean out. And maybe yelling for him to stop. Perhaps dramatizing a bit, saying he was going to kill us both. Possibly pointing out all the dangerous drains that cut deep into the road and would have sent our little irrigating GMC Sonoma flying into the next county had we hit them.

So yes, being a girl.

When Brandon had enough of my whining, crying and screaming, he just looked over at me, and very seriously said, “Baby, I am Brandon. Earnhardt. Leister. …I got this.”


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