Last night my mom called to tell me she'd just seen a big pack of about thirteen or fourteen raccoons. "At first we could see only their glowing eyes," she said, "and we didn't know what kind of animal they were. Then we saw that they were raccoons."
"Must be a full moon thing," I said, admiring the gold-platter moon peeking above the Houston horizon. "They were probably having like a raccoon party." We agreed the theory made perfect sense. It seemed like something raccoons would do on nights when the moon was brightest.
Then when I came across thirteen pennies sprinkled across the parking lot of a gas station this morning, that made perfect sense too. I thought, "Must be a full moon thing."