Last night at work I went into the stockroom to fetch some slippers (known in these parts as "house shoes") and was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of some women's spring pants on a rolling rack. They were sized on the rack - largest size on one end of the rack, smallest size on the other end. The largest size was facing me and it looked enormous. Since I was alone, I felt free to quote, out loud, a former coworker who was fond of saying, "Sweet suffering Jesus!" I went closer, exercising caution because those pants looked like they could smother me. They were a size 24. Then it hit me - I used to wear size 24 pants. And when I wore that size, I had no concept of how big I really was.