Today was just like any other day, you woke up, got your son, Tate, ready for school, dropped him off, came home and made breakfast for you and your husband, Fiddleford, went to work for a few hours, picked up Tate from school, and then came home and made dinner. This is what you were used to, what you liked to do, you loved your little family.

But that all changed when Fiddleford got a phone call late at night, and from what you heard, it sounded like it was his old college friend, Stanford Pines, who was talking to him. Out of nowhere, Fiddleford took his suitcase out of the closet and started to pack it, still talking to Stanford on the phone and occasionally glancing up at you.

It didn’t take much effort to convince Fiddleford to drive all the way from California to Oregon, which stung a bit, but it seemed like it was important. Now sitting up in bed, you watch as your husband zips up his suitcase and hangs up the phone, turning back to you with an unhappy yet reassuring smile. “Hey, my friend wants me to head up to Oregon for a few days, but I’ll call every night to see how you and Tater are doing, okay?”