Sunday, March 16, 2014 Inquirer Daily News  My offensive feline
THE FIRST two weeks of the football season have reinforced an
awful truth: My family doesn't care about the Eagles. They care
about junk food. I've carried that secret for years, but I
refuse to bear the burden alone anymore. It's become much too
heavy, so I'm laying it at my readers' feet. Now maybe my family
can begin to heal.  I know what you're thinking. You're thinking
I'm naive to believe that they'll change after all these years.
In LaVeta's case, you're probably right. But it's not too late
for the children. There's still time for them to see the light.
Maybe I can get them to succumb to positive peer pressure by
convincing them that the cool kids are Eagles fans. Maybe in
five years or so my son will meet a hot girl who's really into
football. Maybe in 10 years my daughter will take up a career in
sports science. Then I can finally have real father-child
conversations with them - you know, talks about the spread
offense.  Until then, my