In a spare room on the lower east Side of New York City on a Wednesday morning, a disheveled music teacher multitasks in front of his audience of 10 toddlers and their parents. As he sings Bagel, he wiggles his hips goofily, preens, then pretends to be a bread product inhabited by the spirit of Mae West: "I'm big and round, I got a hole in the middle/And I'm lumpy and I'm bumpy and they call me pumpernickel/I'm good in the morning, I'm good at night/A little bit of butter and I taste just right/Come on and gobble me up, gobble...
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