And then we were four. Wow, guys--our third year, much like the “even worse threes after the supposed terrible twos” of child rearing, was pretty volatile, and we’re still shaking our heads and sighing heavily when we have spare moments to breathe at all. But we are hopeful; age four was my absolute favorite with my own kids, with the dawn of reason and the ability to have a conversation and such, and since the brewery is really like another child (albeit a needy and slightly