When you are three you navigate this world the way that you want…
because you are three.
You eat what you want.
You wear what you want.
You even boldly change your name from Fallon to Caitlin because obviously your Mommy got it all wrong naming you Fallon because it is clear that you are Caitlin. You are especially vindicated when your Mima tells you how your own Mommy decided when she was a little girl that her Mommy Dearest spelled her name wrong on her birth certificate and then made the necessary corrections.
But the best thing about you when you are three is you can sing at the top of your lungs, “I came in like a wrecking ball…“ over and over and over again while you are swinging on a swing because when you are three years old and you are you, it makes total sense.
Happy, happy birthday our perfect palindrome, darling monster, fancy Fallon Elizabeth! I know, your name is actually Caitlin but I am going to play the grandparent card and stubbornly refuse to acknowledge your true name or even the correct spelling as grandparents do sometimes.