Attack of the Giant Pants

The day started with a hearty breakfast for camp residents: 3/4 cup milk, 1 banana, 1 breakfast sandwich, 1 hardboiled egg. I was on milk detail and I totally didn’t mess it up even though it involved math. #tellmymom #soproud

It’s a complicated system that relies on counting down from seven, because that’s how many cups are in a box of milk. I am easily distracted and not good at repetitive tasks (flashback: Corporate Binder Photocopying Debacle of ’98), but when you worry about cheating a kid out of his daily allowance of milk, suddenly things you suck at become things you excel at, because they have to.

Thankfully pouring milk is easier than making friendship bracelets which, as you know, I totally failed yesterday.


This is the deal: There are seven cups of milk in a box, so if you pour out one, you can keep the remaining six in the box so that a person picking up breakfast for a family of six can take a box instead of six wobbly, spilly cups back to their tent. It was my job to keep enough cups full while also making boxes of 6, 5, and 4 cups. This might sound easy to you but there are lots of distractions and the fear of repeating the Great Photocopying Debacle kept my heart pounding in my ears.

But divine intervention kept me focused and everyone got milk. My favorite part of food distribution comes at the end, when there are leftovers and we can give them out to people who want more. We ran out of cups but the last straggler got himself a box of 4.
After breakfast I went to the warehouse where we store all the material donations–things like clothes, baby carriers, diapers, strollers, and other supplies.

We are gearing up for a big distribution of women’s clothing this weekend, which means we needed to take inventory of what was in the warehouse so we could go shopping to fill in the gaps. (Donors, your donations will fund 1/3 of this distribution, which will provide some clothing for roughly 500 women at two camps on the island. I’ll post more details after this weekend. Thank you!!)

I volunteered to count women’s long sleeved shirts. These are very popular items, even in the heat of summer, because our residents prefer modest clothing.

I did my best to divide a foreign sizing system into small, medium, and large, mostly by holding up a top to my own torso and guessing from there. It was not an exact science, and I don’t have a background in retail, so fingers crossed it works out in the end.

In the pile of donated clothing I found some really nice shirts, some horrid abominations made from 1980’s upholstery fabric, and a pair of CRAZY GIANT PANTS.

They were in the shirt pile because apparently no one could believe they were pants. When you hold them inside out or upside down or by one leg or the other, it’s plausible to imagine someone wearing it as a shawl or some such. But when I looked for the neck hole and couldn’t find one, I realized they had to be pants.

People, check out these crazy giant pants.


There’s a path for a draw string and I’m sure a fashionista has figured out a way to make these a formidable rival to hammer pants (#CantTouchThis) but I think they are hilarious and awesome.

Too big hold and manage a selfie, I asked someone to take my picture for the first time since I stood in front of the Kremlin 27 years ago. Because when God gives you pants like these, you have to drop everything and take a photo of yourself holding them, then post it immediately to the Internet. #KodakMoment

In other news, Mustafa has honed his skill of making friendship bracelets and is now a maestro.
To learn more about my volunteer trip to help refugees, and to find out how you can help too (Big shop coming for the women’s clothing distribution!) follow this link:


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