Authors note: I don't know the exact age differences between Marshall and Kate, so I'm going to put it at about two years. If anyone knows the actual difference, it would be cool if you told me. I don't own The United States of Tara. : c Or Doctor Who. I put the doctor who bit in because in the first episode, you can see that there is a Doctor Who poster in Marshall's room at the left side of the screen when his moms talking to him after T having a shit fit.

*PoV Kate*

I was six years old, and Moosh was nearly four. I was home from school early because I was sick, and my parents were smothering me, which I enjoyed at the time. Marshall was a t daycare, and my mom was supposed to be getting him in an hour. I was wrapped in a big fuzzy blanket, watching old Doctor Who re-runs with dad. Doctor Who is a weird English show that Marshall likes, so my dad got all the episodes on DVD. It's okay, but it's not my favourite.

It wasn't the first time I'd met T, but it's the first time I remember. She came down the stairs with her hair up in pig tails, her cleavage and ass crack showing. My dad sighed and stood up, then took her into the kitchen to talk. T swore at my dad and left. We watched another episode of Doctor Who and I fell asleep. When I woke up, mom was still out, and Marshall wasn't home. The power had gone out sometime through my nap, and dad was asleep on the couch.

"Daddy," I said, trying to wake him. "Daddy."

"Hmm?" Dad looked at me and smiled. "Hey, Kitty-Kate."

"Mommy was supposed to bring Moosh home."

"Fuck! What time is it?" Dad looked at his watch and swore again, got up and picked me up, heading towards the truck.

We drove to Marshall's daycare center, and ran inside.

"I was wondering when someone'd come pick him up!" one of the daycare ladies said. "He's been sat in the play room for three hours!"

"Sorry!" dad said. "The powers out and we lost track of time!"

I walked over to Marshall, who was indeed sat in the play room, flipping through the pages of an old kid's book. It was faded and fraying, but he seemed very interested. He was very in to reading, even if he wasn't too good at it.

"Hey, Moosh," I said, sitting next to him.

He looked up at me and smiled. "Hi, Katie." Only Marshall was allowed o call me Katie. He was my little brother, and he could call me whatever. Dad came in and said we were going home. I took Marshall's hand and we walked out of the building. We stopped near the flower garden because Marshall wanted to point out a new flower he'd heard of. "Chrysanthemum." He pointed to a pretty pink flower, which had a bee searching for nectar in it. "Buzz buzz bee." Marshall giggled in that adorable toddler way. The bee flew towards us, and I freaked out and ran behind my dad, but Marshall stayed put. He put up his hand and the bee landed on it. "Buzz buzz bee." Marshall poked it with his other hand. The bee flew up and Marshall followed it, trying to capture it in his chubby little hands. Dad and I laughed, and so did he. He caught it, smiling triumphantly.

Marshall let out a yelp of pain, and started crying. The "buzz buzz bee" had stung his palm, and it swelled up quickly. "Dadaaa!" Marshall wailed as daddy picked him up, taking his hand and kissing it, trying to make Marsh feel better. Daddy bounced Marshall up and down on his hip, and soon Marshall was laughing again, tears still streaming down his face. His laughs turned to a choking sound and he started wheezing.

A look of panic flooded on my dad's face, and we were soon in the car. We were speeding down the highway, and dad kept telling me to keep Marshall in a position in which he could breathe. Marshall was sobbing, and wheezing and it was horrible, and I started to cry, too. We got to the hospital, and dad rushed Marshall in and we were surrounded by a mob of doctors.

"Kate, call mommy's cell, okay?" dad said.

I went over to the pay phones, put in a quarter, and did as I was told.

Mom picked up after the third dial tone. "Hello?"

"Mommy?"

"Kate? What's up, baby?"

"You didn't pick up Marshall after daycare."

"Of, shit! I'm so sorry! I'll be home soon, so just wait there, baby."

"We're at the hospital."

"What? Why?"

"Moosh got stung by a bee and his throat closed up. He's being helped by the doctors right now, so I think he'll be alright."

"Oh, Marshmallow. I'll be right over."

I hung up and went to wait for mom. Dad came and sat with me, but he couldn't sit for long. He started pacing back and forth, waiting for mom or a doctor. Mom came in, her T attire still on. Dad had a shit fit, going all ape on mom about forgetting to pick up Moosh. The doctor had to separate the fight. We all went in to see Marshall, and dad seemed to forget about being mad at mom. He was just happy that he was healthy.

Say what you want about my family, about how crazy we are, but that doesn't change the fact that we are a family.