Scared, Stupid, or Senile?

At the prospect of moving in with Mike D and his two kiddos, Miss Thing and The Rockstar, everyone keeps asking me if I'm scared. No fucking way! They are awesome! And maybe it's cause I'm totally freaking exhausted tonight (15 massages in 3 days plus moving plus entertaining Dad and the dog) I'm starting to think that maybe there's some detail I'm looking over. Should I be scared at the thought of moving in and assisting raising two badass children? Should I be afraid that The Rockstar threatened my life the first night we met (as a ploy for ice cream, no less)? Should I have nightmares over the fact that Miss Thing has openly admitted that she will taunt me when I try to play video games (even though she was very kind this week while playing Kirby)? Try as I might, I can't think of that tiny detail that should put the fear of gawd in me. I'm just counting down the days till next Wednesday or Thursday till we can all hang out again.