Twenty Years From Now..
Me: So darling, do you want ham or pickles on your-
Radio: Alright you old Directioners-
Me: OH MY GOD!
Daughter: Not again..
Radio: Here's a classic for you, Little Things.
Me: Turn it up.
Daughter: Shit..
Radio: 'Your hand fits in mine like it's made just for me.'
Me: AHHH!
Daughter: Mum, stop it. Get off the floor.
Husband: What's all this ruckus, oh hey, I'm on the radio.
