I thought of the only dance I could. In my head, I sang the Macarena and began the steps. Both hands out. Then flipped them. Crossed my arms. I felt like an idiot. Absolutely must’ve looked like one too. When I got to the part where I shook my hips, the baker had had enough. “Stop, stop, stop!” he said. “I’ll give ye something to eat just to get ye to stop.”
