Bobby gave a little shrug. "Still nursing one hell of a headache, but I'll survive. So long as there are no repeat performances in the future," he added with a grumble.

He looked closely at Castiel. Bobby had a sense that turning into a toddler was a rather bizzare experience for an angel. "What about you, son? You ok?"

Whoops. Later Bobby would blame the fatigue, or the headache, lack of coffee or anything that caused him to slip like that. But he would stand by what he said, even if it was the height of human arrogance to call an angel that was older than Creation itself 'son'.