hit me with your best shot

Confession time: one of my favorite past times (not listed on my profile) is singing along at the top of my lungs to Pat Benatar hits from the 8o's. Come out, children of the 80's, all of you! Embrace your musically-pathetic youth! (Pat is not included in this description.) Come to terms with being raised in the time of young people beating their way up the corporate ladder for white walls and black BMWs, Flashdance, Footloose, legwarmers, a time before Reagan was just ashes and an airport! Sure, it was horrible and wasteful and gluttonous and Republican, but it's OURS. And come to think of it, this decade (and what DO we call this decade??) has FAR out-stripped the horrors of the 80's. I'll pause here while we all ponder whether that's a good thing...

...

So, Pat Benatar. Yes! And one day recently, while I was driving along, she popped on the radio and I knew what I had to do. I had to go buy a Best of CD and sing to my baby on a daily basis. Happy Mama, happy baby. But just as suddenly, I had second thoughts. Remember that one questionable hit - "Hell is for Children?" Years from now, my child might find the CD in my collection, put it on and recognize it in the faintest way as the stuff of her/his in utero lullabies. And then s/he'll see that title. Look, I'll have plenty to explain as it is. I put the plan out of my mind for a while. Am I headed for a life of self-censorship? I wondered. But my craving wouldn't go away (and I know about cravings). After all, we belong, we belong together. So, I found a cheapo Best of without the Hell song. It's also inexplicably missing "Love is a Battlefield." My first parental sacrifice?