I went shopping for some gifts for my nieces today and proved to myself– and those fortunate enough to have been privy to my self-imposed epiphany– that I am a moron. I decided to purchase my brother’s daughters some clothing to give them as gifts when I come to visit them in a couple of days. So, when I got to the store, I realize that I don’t know their actual garment sizes but have a general idea of what clothing may fit them. At the children’s section of the store, I was elated to see some racks labeled “Girls 7-14″ and was immediately drawn to them. I mean, it couldn’t have been more perfect. A sales clerk came up me to and inquired if I needed assistance. I said, smugly, “Nope, got it covered. I thought I would need help to find clothing for my 12-year-old and 9-year-old nieces because I wasn’t sure about their sizes. Thank goodness you label your clothes by age range.” The sales clerk smiled/smirked and said, “Actually, sir, that sign is for the size of the clothes. You know, as in sizes seven through fourteen?” I blanked out for a moment and pretended to recover, “Oh, of course, I knew that.” But I soon acquiesced and accepted her help. Did I feel stupid? You betcha. Will that ever happen to me again. No siree, bob! Next time, the nieces are getting books.