Kid, and kiddo, and all of these things. Credence's lips quirk into an almost-smile, because he likes those little nicknames. He's never had them before. Slowly, he nods to say he understands what the other means.

"I'm 22," he admits softly. He knows he doesn't look or act like it--it's something else Mary Lou has chastised him for, despite it being her own doing. It's someting Credence blames himself for as well, as is par for the chorus. He reaches for one carefully, about to take a bite.

"And the other one?" He asks before he does. "I've only ever seen it."