Primo: At the meeting I went to tonight, the director of the League of Conservation Voters was there.
Primo: Remember how they wouldn't endorse me in my other campaigns?
Me: Oh! Right! Because will endorse only candidates they are sure will win?
Me: Did you tell her what you thought about that?
Me: What? You don't think direct confrontation about something like that is the way to get an endorsement for this campaign?
Primo: It's how my dad would do it. And he would tell her she's stupid.
Me: That's why your dad had so many friends and so many people who mourned his death.
Me: So what did you do?
Primo: I introduced myself to her. I don't think she knew who I was, so I told her I was the one whose mother had written her a letter.
Primo: You remember that!
Me: I most certainly do not! Your mom wrote them a letter?
Primo: I told you that.
Me: No. No, you did not. That is not the sort of helicopter parenting event that I would ever forget. She wrote them a letter?
Me: Maybe she thought she had standing because she was an environmental activist?
Primo: Yes. She wrote them an angry letter about not endorsing me.
Me: And yet they did not endorse you!
Me: Did she ever call your boss? Wait! No! Did she ever call a hiring manager who didn't offer you a job after you had interviewed? Because that's the job equivalent.
Me: Was your mother surprised that her tactic did not lead to an endorsment?
Primo: I don't know.
Me: So what did the director say when you told her you were the one whose mother had written a letter?
Primo: She said, "Oh, yeah. I remember."
Me: Anything else?
Primo: And then she said, "I guess I won't hold it against you."
Me: Was she joking?
Primo: I think she was serious.