[EVA PERÓN, wearing milk-crusted sweatpants and an oversized Maradona jersey, gently closes the nursery door and checks her watch. ARGENTINA commences screaming. EVA pours half a bottle of Malbec into a dirty coffee mug and slouches down with her back against the nursery door.]

It won’t be easy, you’ll think it cruel

When I try to explain how I feel
But I really need sleep after eight months of this_

At 7 pm, JUAN PERÓN returns home to an apartment filled with ARGENTINA’s screams. He asks what’s for dinner, then sighs in exasperation upon learning that it’s grass-fed beef. Again. JUAN loosens tie, turns longingly towards EVA but is instantly rebuffed by her icy glare. Annoyed by the grating cries, he begins to question his wife’s parenting choices. EVA immediately becomes defensive.]

You don’t believe me
All you see is a girl you once knew
Now with black circles surrounding her eyes
Up at 2 am and 4 am and 6 am too

I had to let it happen, something had to change
Couldn’t keep spending my nights breastfeeding
While you snore in our bed, sleeping eight hours through

So I choose Ferber…

[EVA is interrupted by the sound of PARAGUAY stomping on the floor in the apartment upstairs. Moments later, CHILE is knocking on the front door in a bathrobe and ratty slippers, demanding quiet. EVA throws her hand across her forehead and leans on the nursery door.

Don’t cry anymore, Argentina
The truth is, I’m not coming to get you
In just a few tough nights
With some persistence
You’ll learn to self-soothe
With Mommy in the distance

And what about the attachment parenting
We resolved in the beginning to do?

[EVA whirls around and grabs JUAN by the shoulders, shaking him violently.

It’s an illusion!
Not the solution Dr. Sears promised it to be
The answer was here all the time:
We have to just leave him to cry!