Cooking is not such a relaxing pursuit with a screaming baby underfoot. Whatever it was that ticked her off, she wasn’t going to let it go and we were not allowed to forget it for.a.single.second. By the time dinner was on the table, we were all shattered. I recuperated with a San Pellegrino Cocktail, the husband clung to his glass of wine and the baby promptly fell asleep when we put her to bed after half a jar of baby food and a few bites of sausage. No picture, because really.