Last night, my sister had a sleepover with Boston and Harmony. For reasons still unclear, this meant our house transformed into a non-stop laugh factory, luxury spa, and a dance recording studio.

There was music. There was giggling. There were sudden bursts of screaming. It was…. a vibe, I guess? Apparently, girls do weird things at their sleepovers.

Luckily, I spent most of my time hunting in the woods, which may have saved me. Out there, it was quiet. Peaceful. Predictable. The deer did not scream. The trees did not giggle. And Dad and I didn’t have to play Truth or Dare.

In the end, I survived the sleepover mostly unscathed—thanks to the woods, which remain my safe haven, my fortress of solitude, my personal princess-free kingdom where sanity reigns supreme.