Sometimes my daughter is just really nice. It's true she wanted me to hurry up and get this cake baked for my book group, so she could watch Dancing with the Stars with me, but she also knew I was freaking out about all the directions, and she helped. She helped a lot. Why I picked a recipe that had me heating up the eggs and sugar over a double boiler (but don't you dare let them touch the water), before whipping them in a mixer, before folding them in with a ten stroke maximum is beyond me. I'm never cooking with Cook's again. Rose helped me read the directions aloud, took on many of the tasks, and we slowly made a tremendous strawberry cake. Then we got to kibbitz together at the stars.