"I remember being intrigued with Marlee's tongue. In those first few weeks when she'd cry, it would curl up on both sides, just a perfect little bow. I learned how to hold her, how to check the temperature of the milk on my wrist, and how to feed her. I remember Marlee always wanted to know who was in the room; even before she could sit up, she'd be laying in her crib but always looking around. I used to think she had radar in her head.
"Oh, and I remember she had regular diapers, I guess it was before disposables. My mother would put them in the toilet to soak and I used to go in there and pee on them."
Just what brothers are for...
Life went on and I grew into a babbling toddler–"What's that, Marlee?" "Apple." "And that?" "Dog."
"She wasn't putting sentences together, but she had very clear speech," Marc remembers.
Everything seemed fine. Except it wasn't.