One evening last week my 6-year-old daughter and I ran out to Dairy Queen to get treats and bring them home for everyone. It was around 6:30, and as we drove east on 17th Avenue it was still fairly light outside but the moon was already visible. It was nearly full; it was full a night or so later.
For a long minute I struggled to figure out what she meant. Then it dawned on me. She thinks that the moon starts out as a sliver when the sun first goes down, “grows” to full by the middle of the night, then shrinks down to a sliver right before dawn, when it disappears completely.
“Yep,” she replied, matter-of-factly.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “That’s why I don’t get why it’s so big right now. It’s not supposed to be yet.”