LORD OF THE DANCE

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I'm not a dancer.

Never have been, never will be. I am one of about five people on the planet who has to step out of wedding receptions when the "Electric Slide" begins, as I am so lacking in rhythm that I cannot grasp the complex moves of step-spin-step-spin-clap.

But despite my ineptitude on the dance floor, I have found myself being thrust into dance action on a regular basis of late.

It is not by choice. It is because you cannot tell a three-year-old that you do not want to dance.

If you try not to dance, you will have the following conversation:

THREE-YEAR-OLD: Let's dance!

ME: No.

THREE-YEAR-OLD: Let's dance!

ME: No.

Repeat this conversation for the next four hours and you, too, will break down and begin dancing.

Unfortunately, I am rarely in control of the music that we dance to. More often than not, the music comes from one of several of my daughter's favorite shows. Parents of small children will now shudder when I mention the most popular one: The Wiggles.

The Wiggles are a collection of Australian men wearing bright shirts who drive around town in a big red car and dance with a green dinosaur and a rather disturbing pirate.

I am fairly sure that, if the Wiggles were to show up at my doorstep, I would call the authorities.

The songs The Wiggles sing are of the worst kind: They stick in your ear like some kind of sonic Super Glue. The moving and insightful lyrics include such things as, "Dance the ooby-do, with Dorothy the Dinosaur" and "Wiggly Party -- everybody dance now!" They also sing polka.

But when the music starts, and I am instinctively reaching for the television volume, my daughter is forcing me into dance service. Having all the rhythm of a sedated squid, I begin to rigidly lurch around the den, looking I'm sure like I am in serious need of medication. I always make a point of loudly proclaiming that "WE'RE DANCING!!!" so that my wife doesn't walk into the room and think I am having a seizure.

Another kiddie musical group that my daughter has grown fond of is Hi-5, a group of -- surprise -- five young adults with as much positive energy as one can positively stomach. The show is on in the mornings, and when I am still squinting to measure out the coffee, my daughter is bounding into the kitchen -- why not, she's going on 12 hours of sleep -- screaming, "ROBOT NUMBER ONE!!!" Robot Number One is their most popular song. I base this on the fact that it is performed on every show. To be honest, I am not sure if they have other songs.

At least doing the robot dance is slightly easier, since rigid movements are the specialty of a robot dance. The lyrics are certainly Grammy-worthy: "Robot Number One, We're Gonna Have Some Fun...Have Some Fun...Have Some Fun..."

When I finally accepted the fact that I am going to have to dance, I decided that I would try and get my daughter hooked on some better music. I knew that she liked fast songs, so I went through my collection and began pulling out certain songs that I thought would appeal.

My first choice was a song by the band The Presidents of the United States, called "Peaches." Most of your probably don't know that song.

However, I highly recommend teaching that to children, because the few people at the grocery story who have heard it get a kick out of a toddler bellowing, "Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches!"

But it was not dance-worthy. No, of all the songs I tried, only two songs were acceptable: Scat Man John's "Scat Man," an incredibly fast-paced scat song that, for some reason, causes me to dance in a Russian folk dance style, and the "Rocky" theme. The dance for this is quite simple: You run around the room pumping your first in the air screaming, "ROCKY! ROCKY!" and, of course, an occasional shout-out to Adrian. This, I have learned, is not a song to select when Mommy is sleeping in.

I guess it's not that bad having to dance all of the time. I mean, she really enjoys it, and it's not like anyone really sees me in the privacy of my own home. Maybe if I keep dancing with her, she'll teach me the Electric Slide.