He hands me a plastic bag that once held entire crackers. A couple weeks ago, I had tossed some almonds in the bag, too. The mix went into my backpack for a hike. It went up and down a couple North Carolina mountains, and made the trip back to Jersey. I am cheap about tossing even stale food because you never know when you will be hungry.
The inside of the bag is streaked with sour cream, bits of crushed stale crackers and one almond. I dip my fingers in the tub of sour cream and then into the somewhat yucky bag. The cream is cold and speads across my hand. Crumbs cling to my hand which has also picked up more cream from the bag. I lick my fingers.
Beren assesses my hand. "Momma, you may need to lick more than once." I decide to rinse my hands instead.
It is time for a trip to the market to restock the larder.