I haven't seen Contagion, but maybe it starts with a sun-deprived mama who is so desperate to feel humid air on her skin that she drags her utterly sick children out to the pool?
Yeah. That's right. I convinced myself that the sunshine would be good for my sick girls and we got up and out of the hotel room every day. So while the Dogtor sat patiently in a conference room learning about how to use honey for wound management, I took the Mayhew-Bergman show poolside.
Some dude in a plane spent an hour writing affectionate messages to Jesus in the sky. Frasier stationed herself in the sandbox area, lording over the shovels, and had a melt down when a six-year-old boy with Bieber hair got in the way: "MOM. HE'S NOT LETTING ME DIG MY BEST HOLE."