Daddy sat on one of the chairs. I went to sit but he stopped me by holding his hand up, regarding me as he kept to his silence.

I didn't like it. I would have rather that he gave me a lecture, even if it was numbingly boring, or that told me off in his stern, finger-wagging way. I wasn't sure what he was thinking when he was quiet like this and that worried me a little. I had no idea how to deal with silence.

"If I say sorry to the egg, can me no get in trouble?" I asked, hooking my index on the corner of my lip,...