Mom: Michael Gordon Clifford! This is heights. You will colour your hair again? And that to blue? I will grab you by your hair and drag you across the stage in front of millions of people if you colour your hair again.
Michael: Mom calm down. You know I have to colour my hair every month. By now you should have gotten used to it.
Mom: what do you mean "I have to" ?
Michael: it's my thing. You know punk rock stuff.
Mom: DONT YOU DARE USE THAT WORD. I'm sick of hearing that. It's become an excuse to justify the stupid things you do.
Michael: *huffs* Mom......... I'm an adult now.. Can we not have this discussion. AND my incredibly good looks make me look good in every colour.
Mom: listen Michael I'm not concerned about how you will look. No matter how obnoxious the colour is somehow everything suits you. I am concerned about you losing all your precious hair.
Michael: NOW YOUR JUST GETTING PERSONAL.
Mom: DONT RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME.
Michael: THIS IS A TEXT. SO IM NOT REALLY RAISNG MY VOICE.
Y/n: CALM DOWN PEOPLE.
Mom: thank god y/n please talk my son out of this please.
Y/n: umm about that it's a little late for that. The damage is done.
Michael: because punk rock ;)
Mom: THATS IT GORDON I DISOWN YOU.
<Michael has sent an image>
Mom: MICHAEL I WILL...... Wait this is not that bad actually
Michael: *smirk* sorry couldn't hear you over your "OMYGOD I SOUND LIKE ABIGAIL" behaviour
Mom: DONT YOU DARE COMPARE ME WITH HER.
Michael: whatever mom.
Mom: *rolls eyes* but honestly speaking this colour really suits you please don't change it.
Michael: but that's what you say every time mom.
Mom: I can't help it if I have a really good looking son
Y/n: now that I agree with.
Michael: *dramatic hair flip* thank you ladies
Mom: don't flip your hair it may fall off
Michael: that's what Abigail said
Mom: I TOLD YOU NOT TO COMPARE ME WITH HER
y/n: there there...... Can we go back to "my son is good looking" stage
Mom: haha my son is a dork but I love him
Y/n: your son is a dork and that's why I love him
Michael: awwwwwwww finally this conversation is getting somewhere
Luke: I'll just sit in the corner
Mom: there is my boy. Come I'll bake cookies for you.
Luke: yaaaasss
Michael: NO YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING. YOUR MY MOM AND YOU WILL BAKE COOKIES FOR ME AND ONLY ME.
Y/n: *coughs* I can bake some for you.
Michael: yaaaasssssssss Love you girlfriend. Luke can keep my mom. For now.
Y/n: god that sounded so weird.
Michael: what? It's true. Luke has a thing for moms.
Mom: MICHAEL?!
<Michael has disconnected>
