A putrid odor followed, like rotten eggs crossed with sour milk and tinged with the distinct smell of peanut butter, strong enough to clear a room. Polly tiptoed down the stairs on one side of the stage, holding Griffin by the hand, on the way to Griffin’s cubby to find his change-of-clothing bag. Not only wasn’t Griffin quite as toilet trained as his parents had led us to believe he was, but apparently he hadn’t quite mastered farting on command either.

People were trying to hold their noses without being obvious. Griffin’s mom scrunched down in her chair and covered her face with her program as Polly and Griffin passed. Griffin’s dad videoed his son’s walk of shame with his iPhone.

Everybody was laughing now, performers and audience alike. I wondered if we could get away with calling it a performance and taking our bows now.

Ethan and I each gave the dogs and cats a thumbs up, then we walked behind the curtains, where Gloria had the students who were doing the cave kids dance all set up and ready to go.

“What a beautiful world,” one of the cats said into the microphone. “If only I had a family to belong to.”

“I know,” one of the dogs said. “Let’s travel through time and place and see if we can all find the perfect homes to live.”

“That way we can enjoy all the magical celebrations along the way,” the other cat said. “Starting with the first people in the history of the world ever to dance.”

“I was supposed to say that part!” the other dog sobbed.

The audience erupted in laughter.

I figured if we opened the curtain fast it might look like it was supposed to be part of the performance. I nodded across the stage to Ethan and we both started pulling the ropes. June crawled out from the side of the curtain to make sure the crying dog was okay.

The cave kids dance was adorable. Lots of knee bending and low swinging arms and hopping around which might have looked a little more frog-like than caveman-like, if not for the animal print fabric wrapped around the dancers.

We moved on to Polly’s and my class dance to “Walk Like an Egyptian.” Our kids were all dressed in white T-shirts and sweats, except for Griffin, whose back-up clothes happened to be red and black plaid, but that was fine. I mean, it was preschool, not Broadway. Polly had made gold lamé bands to wrap around their foreheads, smaller serpent-like gold bands for their upper arms.