Pause for a Manipulative Silence

My daughter came into my bathroom while I was preparing myself for the day. "I can't find my toothbrush," she announced followed by a long pause, during which she looked at me inquiringly but never asked if I might know where she had misplaced it.

Finally, since I said nothing but, "Mm hmm," and continued applying creams and tonics to my aging skin, she asked, "Can you find yours?" as if all the oral hygiene products in our household had been absconded.

"Yes," I responded, "it's right here," and I held it up to show her.

Another long pause ensued accompanied again by an inquisitive expression.

"No," I firmly stated, "you can't use my toothbrush."

"Why not," she asked.

"I don't share my toothbrush," I said.

"That's not nice," she huffed and left, determined to work the art of her manipulative silence on her daddy.