Wash, rinse, repeat

Well, my worst fears were realized when I was awoken at 3:57am by the feeling of one of those big red ants crawling on my neck.  In a beautifully executed ninja-ballet-gymnastics move I was able to swat, pirouette, half-twist, shed my covers, leap from bed all while transitioning from deep R.E.M. sleep to full combat readiness.  I am confident that when I landed on my feet (like a cat, mind you), I was in a wrestlers pose - one foot in front of the other, head low, hands out in front.

I know what my wife is thinking right now, "oh, I have seen that same move.  Only Jeff is always dreaming about seeing spiders in bed. Nay, they have never been but a dream."

Thanks for the confidence, Janna.  And exposing my kryptonite to all of Blog Nation.  

In fact, I calmly secured my phone from the bed stand and flipped it to flashlight mode.

There it was!  The devil himself! That darn ant was on my pillow! If it had eyes, I would say it was stunned from the athleticism she (worker ants are always female) had just witnessed.  But I think I had stunned her with my swat.  Well, I should have snapped a photo for Doubting Janna.  But instead I flung her off my pillow with a confident, masculine motion.

I didn't sleep much after that.

Ants use the pheromones of other ants to determine their pathways. 

Breakfast in the room, pool/hades, lunch in the room, surfing, pool/hammocks, dinner.

Surfing was a ton of fun today, apart from the Worst Dad of the Year Award that I won again.  We rented 3 surf boards for $25 from a beach vender.  All four of us went into the water. Aubrey and Shelby we eager to improve.  Quinn, on the other hand did not want to be there.  I could tell. Maybe it was the body language or the fact that she insisted that she "wasn't good at it" before we left.  That and she refused to wear anything other that a tanning bikini.

For whatever reason, I decided to get on her emotional roller coaster.  I haven't done that in a while, and it is not fun, let me tell you.  As she was walking her board into the surf, with it sideways, the force of the first wave took the board up and into her face.  It smacked her good.  My sympathies for her possible concussion were muted by her complete disregard for rule #1 in surfing, keep your board aimed toward the surf at all times.  We had covered this already. Basic stuff. At this point she started crying.  She was crying from pain mostly.  I saw her crying for other reasons.  

It gets worse.

I demanded that she stick it out and hop on that board.  She is 18, mind you.  The crying, adult Quinn took the next wave and it uprooted her and slammed her head into the sand.  Now she was a wreck and I was even more so.  I recall asking this question, "why can't you rally!"  Pretty sure I was yelling.  She was full poopy-pants at this point, crying, throwing her hands down. I suggested if she didn't want to be here she could leave.  

Yeah, that's in the Not Top Ten of encouraging things to say to your daughter.  

She sulked out of the water and had a miserable 2 hours while Shelby and Aubrey and I crushed surfing.  I have GoPro to prove it.

I did, of course, apologize to her immediately after getting back.  She was still crying.  I had cut pretty deep this time.  

So there it is. Beautiful Costa Rica.  Pura Vida.  Totally messed up by really poor parenting.  

Apart from that, we have had a good time here.  The volcanos and rainforests were amazing and worth doing.  There are better beaches around the world than Tamarindo.  Although the good food in town made up for it.  

We check out tomorrow at 11, a driver picks us up at 12:15, and we arrive at the airport at 1:45.  Non-stop flight home.  Looking forward to it.