I really like four. So far, I think it's my favorite age. Four, from my anecdotal evidence anyway, is goofy and serious and rascally and snuggly and waaaaay less challenging than three. I love his observations and his stories about time spent with friends ("Today Ian and I traded names but I wanted mine back because I like having an X." "Isabel looked lonely so I made her a roly poly out of black pipecleaners." "Elliot swings really high and we call it rockin' the bomb.") My sweet four year old will be four and a half in a couple of weeks and he wouldn't think of letting me forget that. But, yeah, four is really great. I am a big fan.