My boy turned three today. As you can see above, the ball already jumps off his bat. While he does everything else with his right hand, he hits left, and simply mashes righties (me). And he does it all naturally -- that stroke is powered by nothing more than corn dogs, milk, Flintstones vitamins, and pure determination.
And before anyone asks, no, I'm not pushing him to play ball. I'll note, however, that if we lived in the Dominican Republic he'd have a contract by now.