Owen has a bad habit of name calling. Lucky for him, he's not that creative (or at least, he's not that mean). I've been called a water bottle, a lady, a trash bag, an orange. He may say it with spite, but it's hard to take it that way. But today, he called me a blister.
"You blister!" he yelled. "You blood blister!"
I think I am actually a little bit offended by that one.