>The afternoon of the pool date, though, was supposed to run
>4-8. They put it back to 5, then got to our place at 5:25.
>Then on arriving at the pool we said 'alright let's get a swim
>and then we can come up for dinner (at the picnic area; we'd
>brought picnic dinners) in an hour or so.' They said 'NO - our
>kids are starving, we're eating NOW!'
>
>Meeting just got here, more this afternoon.

So we agreeably sit down to eat, even though we're not hungry; kids manage okay and we do alright. No biggie. Then it's time to head down to the pool.
Little bit about my swim club:
It's built on a hillside. At the bottom of the hill is a pond (which was the original pool), and the locker rooms and pools. The picnic area is about 1/3 of the way up the hill, at the top of the parking lot, with a nice view from above of the pond and the pool area. Further up the hill is the tennis area and then at the top are the paddle courts. So it takes 10 minutes or so to walk from the pool to the paddle courts.

Anyway. I suggest to crazy fam dad that we head from the picnic area right up to paddle; he says no, he wants to make sure everyone's set up at the pool area. So we all walk down to the pool area, check them in as guests, head down to the pool and set up. Crazy fam mom with the broken foot then says 'where's my phone?' It turns out that she'd put it in the cooler, which of course had gone back in the car. She blames him for putting the cooler back in the car and MAKES HIM WALK BACK UP TO GET IT FOR HER. Like, she can't socialize for a fucking hour at the pool that we're paying for her to be a guest at.

Crazy fam dad comes back down with the phone, we then walk up to the top of the hill and entertain ourselves for an hour walking him through the paddle basics. Then we head back down and as we hit the top part of the parking lot, there's crazy fucking mom having clumped most of the way up the hill, broken foot and all. Clump! Clump! Glower! Glare! Clump! First thing she says is 'Crazy daughter must have gotten some dairy today. We have to go.' (She's mentioned the daughter's theoretical lactose intolerance before, which she claims causes incontinence in the 7 year old daughter.) Crazy fam dad just sighs and agrees to pack up the kids at the pool while crazy fam mom waits at the car, so she doesn't have to walk all the way back down with a broken foot. So we walk all the way back down. Crazy fam dad decides to dip in before he packs the kids, who don't want to leave, up.

My wife's gotta take a leak - she's been in the pool for an hour at this point since crazy fam mom is paranoid about the daughter (who was doing fine, but has a disabled right hand from CP) in the intermediate pool with a lifeguard on duty and nobody else swimming in it. So my wife runs to the bathroom and comes back a minute later rolling her eyes. A minute or two later crazy fam mom shows up BACK AT THE POOL, so crazy fam dad starts to pack up the kids for the walk back up to their car. My kids are staying put. Off the crazy fam finally goes after forcing their girls out of the pool.

So the kicker is that the crazy fam mom had told my wife that the daughter with the incontinence shits herself if she gets dairy; she'd taken her to the bathroom once, which was how she figured out the daughter 'must have gotten some dairy.' The Mrs. thought it was awfully weird that a mom would let a kid, who she feared would shit herself (again?) at any second, back into a public swimming pool. But, whatever, right?
BUT when my wife went to the bathroom she'd noticed the crazy fam mom darting in ahead of her very quickly, and could see the broken-foot-boot in the stall next to hers, FROM WHICH INCREDIBLY LOUD GASTRIC NOISES WERE EMANATING. PffffffffffffFFFFFffffFFFFFbbbbbbtttttttttt. So we're pretty sure the mom was the one with the issues, but was blaming the daughter for it for heaven knows what reason.

So, I don't think we're seeing those guys in a small group at any point in the near future. Thank goodness.

And, oh yeah: crazy fam mom really shouldn't have been wearing a bikini. Yeeeesh.