Like Thanksgiving, I made the 100 mile round trip this evening to visit with my girls as they opened gifts at their grandmother's in Kingfisher.

There was much chaos. A hyper-active weiner dog that lost control of itself on the floor for Shelby to step in with her only pair of (formally) white sox since her mother forgot the suitcase I packed, a screaming baby (the girls' cousin), a couple of very wild, largely unsupervised, toddlerish children creating generally-difficult-to-maintain-a-straight-face moments, and a dozen or so adults trying to eat, talk over each other, and not step on dogs, babies, kids, or presents. I left there with such a crazy adreniline rush just from trying to keep my wits about me.

The adults (all from the ex-wife's family), as is tradition in that family, played a little Dirty Santa after the food. I got me an OU sweatshirt out of it, which was cool, but was -- strangely -- the gift my ex-wife contributed. I, on the otherhand, contributed an electric ice scrapper, which I'm not sure was equally appreciated.

The girls will be staying with their grandmother through tomorrow evening as their mother and I have to work and most traditional child care options are not available.