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One day when I was 10 years old I'd forgotten my house key. My mother was at work, I had no father in the home. So I was locked out after school. The garage was unlocked, so I dragged a ladder and set it up to reach a kitchen window. I climbed up the ladder and broke the window so I could climb in. I denied to my mother that I had broken the window. Of course, she knew I had. But for some reason I never could tell her. By the time she died some 30 years later, I had never admitted to having broken the window. I don't know why, but I never could tell her the truth about that window.
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