“What would you do if I told you I wanted to go to clown school?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t believe you.” he replied.

“What if I were very convincing?”

“I would say, but you can’t go to clown school, we’re trying to save money, and we need your income as well as mine. It would be like if I decided to just, I don’t know, jack it all in, give my notice to the office, and start making sculptures of dead celebrities out of bread for a living.”

“But what if we could work something out?”

“Would you make a good clown?”

“I think I would”

“Are you funny?”

Sarah picked up a glass of water and poured it over her head, then gurned comedically. “Robert,” she said, slowly.

“What?”

“I want to go to clown school.”

The next morning Robert drove to the grocer’s and bought 20 kilogrammes of baker’s flour.