Our niece turned three on Sunday. I made cake pops. Not the hardcore kind where you bake a cake and then mash it up with frosting, but the easy kind where you mix up the batter and dollop it into the cake ball maker. After just a few minutes in the machine, you open the lid to be greeted by six perfectly round and fluffy little balls of cake. It is basically pretty little pops of happy on a stick.
For the husband and I, three is a special number. It stands for those three little words; I love you.
I think it's going to be a very good year for our favorite little three-year-old.