WHEN LEFTIES BREED

Lefty writer Neal Pollack describes himself:

I've always been a smart-ass. I wasn't the dorkiest guy in school, but I was the one who got picked on the most, because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I was always slagging someone, or something.

Not surprisingly, Pollack's toddler son has a few behaviour problems:

Elijah's teacher gave us a stack of injury reports an inch thick. They were all for things Elijah had done to other kids.

"These are just this month's," she said. "And they're just the ones where he drew blood. It also doesn't include the dozens of times we've caught him just before he attacked another kid. We have to pull him off kids three or four times a day." She sighed.

"I have seven new kids coming into my class next month," she continued. "And they're little."

Regina and I looked at each other. Here came the hammer.

"I just think it'll be better for everyone," teacher said, "and that Elijah might be happier, if he went somewhere else."

There's no cataloging the feeling of helplessness that washed over Regina and me then. Our child was being expelled. From preschool. What had we done wrong? I felt terribly guilty. Though I was never a biter, my own childhood was full of intermittent emotional outbursts, fights, visits to behavioral specialists when the schools made them available, and lots of muddled weeping. This continued well into adulthood, until about a year and a half ago when I started taking a pill that shall not be named here but that helped me a lot. Elijah's struggles made me especially sad because I knew that not much could be done to soothe his turbulent little mind. The fact that he has my full sympathy and understanding will provide little solace whenever that chemical stew inside his cranium goes out of balance. Why couldn't he have inherited his mother's demeanor? She's a little bossy and self-righteous, but at least she's sane.

Naturally, Pollack and the missus are upset, but not for the reasons you'd expect of normal parents:

On the drive home, Regina and I could barely keep from weeping. Our respective families were 1,000 miles away in either direction. We were terrified at the prospect of a summer without help. The irony was that we don't have the $1,500 it would have cost to warehouse Elijah through September, so we might have had to pull him out anyway. But now we've been forced into the challenge of caring for a smart, stubborn, high-strung 2-year-old. We love him very much, but that's not the kind of work either of us wants, at least not full time.

Children are just so inconvenient for self-absorbed lefty elites. The Pollacks should give up on reasoning with Elijah and paddle him the next time he bites someone. Better yet, someone should paddle the Pollacks and tell them to start acting like responsible parents.