The nod to his maturity was appreciated; Sam knew what it meant. But he also didn't mind the nickname, not anymore. There had been a time when it seemed condescending, and it still did, coming from anyone other than his parents or Dean. He liked it even better now, really, now that he'd heard it coming from his mother.
"Alright then," he said, smiling. It didn't occur to him that the overcompensation might have been done for his sake; he took what John told him at face value and chalked it up to some kind of new lease on life kind of thing. Apparently everyone in this family had their own ways of indulging themselves with food. "We're going to have a lot of leftovers, though. Dean's the one that can eat enough for an army, not me."
Which was ironic, given their height differences, but it was more about their mentality towards food than their metabolism. Sam ate plenty, as much as he needed, and he had gotten somewhat into the habit of indulging since he'd been here. But he still had certain preferences, so when he sat down at the table, he reached for the first green thing he saw: the beef and broccoli, pairing it with the fried rice and pulling one of the beers towards him.
"So, uh," he said. "It sounded like you wanted to tell me something. Did you want to start with that, or get around to it later?" Whatever it was, he suspected that he might know it already. There weren't many secrets held back in their televised life, not for any of them. But there were things he remembered which weren't aired, so maybe there was something. If there was, he was ready to hear it.