The recalcitrant brother and I once got in huge trouble for singing “Don’t You Want Me, Baby?” at the top of our lungs on a drive home from my Grandma’s house one Christmas.
My dad didn’t think that was an appropriate song for children to be singing.
The recalcitrant brother is a little freaked out because the littlest nephew was singing that song the other day.
I, of course, am tickled by the ways our past lingers.
Tiny Cat Pants 
Man, that’s Ethan’s favorite song!
And “want” when you’re seven is way different from “want” when you’re thirty-three, dad.
Well, then, I’m with Ethan. I think it’s catchy and the melody is singsongy in a way that’s a little more complicated than it appears at first. And, frankly, as a newly minted thirty-three year old, I feel comfortable admitting that I still don’t find that song very sexy at all, so I think the seven year old interpretation is probably the best.