I’m sure many people were sad to hear that the first-grader who plugged his schoolmate in Michigan a couple weeks ago is too young to be prosecuted.

It seems our liberal judiciary decided many years ago that a child of six is unable to grasp the concepts of death and murder sufficiently to be held responsible for his actions. (To those young developing minds, pointing and shooting a weapon is merely imitating the TV and movie actions of adults that are presented as attractive solutions to their problems, after all.)

But what did those pantywaist judges know, anyway? Kids grow up much faster nowadays.

I say a society that finds corporal punishment perfectly acceptable for two-year-olds should be able to come up with some fitting penalty for this budding hoodlum that will satisfy the needs of us citizens for revenge, just as it has for the transgressions of our older brats.

If hitting one’s sister or wetting one’s pants is cause for a few hard swats on the behind (or worse, if mom or dad really gets into this sort of "discipline") then surely whipping out a handgun and drilling another kid in the neck should merit some harsher consequence.

What message are we giving to this little gunslinger if all that happens is that he gets some sort of smarmy "counseling" and a secure, loving home?

So how about monthly canings —by a Singapore professional, of course — until he’s 18, or making him serve weekends in stocks next to a public playground and letting his peers take their best shots?

Whatever, we’ve got to remember: It wasn’t a gun that killed the little girl, it was a bullet.

I mean, it was the perp’s crack-dealing uncle who had the loaded pistol stashed under a filthy mattress he shared with the boy.

No, it was the irresponsible parents who left him with the crack dealer.

Or it was the system that didn’t have the uncle in jail already so he wouldn’t be acquiring stolen weapons to be used as a toy.

Something along those lines.

The main thing to keep in mind, though, is that it wasn’t the gun. (I suggest we all send sympathy notes to the grieving parents explaining this fine point.)

At any rate, this latest example of guns not killing people got me to thinking that we’d better start treating our kids much better.

Or else.

Because once word spreads that gradeschoolers can shoot people with impunity, all bets could be off.

"Mom and dad," some smaller version of your own flesh-and-blood announces, "I want to see one of those new 3-D Nintendos hooked up to my own big-screen TV when I get home from school, or I’m going to be really upset." By that steely look in his eyes, you know all too well what he means.

Trying to instill self-discipline in the little buggers might turn into a nightmare as well.

No more toting out the trash, cleaning one’s room or doing unwanted homework for these liberated grade-schoolers, by golly.

"You take out the garbage, straighten up my room and then get on my math assignment," the little tyrants will be ordering, "and don’t bother me while I’m playing Death Star.

"Or you’ll be sorry."

And you’ll know what they’re really saying.

Suddenly that 9mm semi-automatic in the sock drawer doesn’t give you the same sense of security it once did.

And maybe that trigger-lock gadget that came with your newest 44-Magnum Defender —the one guaranteed to stop a charging cuckold in his tracks — is worth a second look, you muse, all the while fearing down deep that your little high-techie would immediately figure out how to remove it at any rate.

On the other hand, children’s immunity from prosecution could also be used to grown-ups’ advantage.

Got a problem with a neighbor’s barking dog or even the neighbor himself?

Let your seven-year-old take care of it in a very direct manner.

"Your honor," you could later claim, "I had no idea the lad would take me so literally when I said someone would be doing the community a big favor by shooting him."

Why, some demagogue might even start some modern-day Children’s Crusade against, say, abortion doctors! Defending their own, so to speak.

I’d just like to say for the record that I’ve personally always really liked —loved, in fact —all youngsters, especially those whose moms and dads are proud members of the NRA.