"You have to keep control of yourself, Reba," Daniel's father said to his mother. "You can't always be sobbing in front of him. That won't make him better and it'll only make him feel worse."
"You're right. I know. Like the clowns. But it's not their child who's dying," she wailed.
"I think maybe I could be a clown," he said.
She started to sob.