She turned four.

Okay, fine, she turned four last Saturday. But then everyone in the house except me became sick in some sort of rotational pattern and, well, here we are.  It’s Wednesday.  She’s still four.

We made it through the threes.  When Annabel was two, everyone warned us about the threes.  “They are much worse than two,” everyone said. “The threes are truly awful.”

But you know what? As she approached four, people started telling us how awful four is.  I’ve even had a few laying the groundwork and warning me about the fives.  This seems, to me, excessively negative.  I enjoyed whole minutes of the threes and I anticipate that a second or two of the fours will be delightful as well.

This was her cake.  Last year she wanted a pink cake, which I achieved with some degree of success.  Minutes afterward consuming that bit of pink overload, she declared that when she turned four, she wanted a purple cake.  Specifically: a strawberry cake with purple icing.  On one hand, I worried about this birthday cake obsession.  On the other, I admire a girl who knows what she wants.

So I made her a strawberry cake with purple icing.  I let her sprinkle the colored sugar on top, which meant the cake had a nice, solid, crunchy coating of sugar that I think really added to the occasion.

You may notice that the cake photo is taken from a rather low, three-and-a-half footish height.  That’s because Annabel took it herself.  She’s been getting very into using the camera lately and, as our camera is not very expensive, we let her.  It’s fun to see things from her perspective.

Like this blurry but charming photo of Sam (and me cleaning off our kitchen counter for the 800th time that day).

Or this shot of Michael cooking.  Well, Michael’s butt cooking.  Apparently this is what you look like to a four-year-old if you are 6 1/2 feet tall.

Or this shot of a hand.  A hand coming towards a camera lens.  A camera lens that no longer retracts properly but that instead buzzes angrily when you attempt to turn the camera on.

I don’t think this particular second is going to go down in the record books as one of those delightful ones I expect out of the fours.

She wants a red cake for her fifth birthday.  Just in case you were wondering.