Cold this morning. Avery and Aurora bundled in jackets with hoods. Walking to school, and Avery walked with his hands in his pockets. He walked slow, and several times asked me to wait for him to catch up. We could see our breath, which Avery pointed out.
“Daddy, we can see it because it’s cold, right?” he said.
“That’s right,” I said. “Our breath is warmer than the air, so that’s why we can see it.”
My explanation is probably wrong, though I’m sure I knew the right answer at some point.
Waiting to cross a street, and Avery pointed to a car.
“Look, daddy,” he said. “We can see the car’s breath, too.”
Exhaust, the same color as an exhale.