Children in the Dungeon

   So my gay aunts and their small children are coming to visit this weekend. I love them dearly, but the thought of having children in the house that I have now come to call my lair is simply unfathomable.
   I am currently in the process of moving everything around so that nobody dies this weekend. I use the word "currently" pretty loosely because in actuality I am writing more than doing the manual labour it requires to ensure the not-death of your baby cousins. There are so many knick-knacks and a surprising amount of things with cords; it really makes me consider whether my household has actually entered the wireless age or not. And although I am the dungeon master in this structure, I am finding that everything is placed pretty low to the ground- as if a midget lurked in the tunnels of my home. This means that I have a lot to do, and lets face it, I've barely even started.
   The weirdest part though is that there will be literal children here in T-minus five hours or so. I am not the most sunny person. In fact, I can be quoted as saying "I would not call myself a kind person", but sunny is the most thing that I am not. I pull all the blinds and put up extra curtains in my bedroom so that I will not be awoken by the laughter of children outside or the jovial rays of the sun. Try as I might, nothing can save me from it this weekend as the children will be coming inside the dungeon and with them, the sun (as some flowery parenting guide would say).