I have some confessions for you…
I know pretty much nothing about football, unless you count watching every season of Friday Night Lights (Clear eyes, Full Hears, Can’t Lose). I know there are touchdowns and fumbles and first downs but I cannot tell you which is which. I grew up in a football household. My parents would wear jerseys and make large volumes of guacamole for Super Bowl Sunday. I would play with my Barbie Dream House, make things with glitter, and occasionally comment on how tight all the football players wore their pants. I somehow managed to miss learning all the rules. When my father asked me if I would be watching the Super Bowl this year, I responded honestly and told him probably not. He was disgusted. How could he have gone so wrong? The 49ers were playing and I wasn’t even going to turn on the TV? Awful. So, on game day I decided to get into the spirit of things in order to not be a total disappointment to the man who raised me. I bought a lot of spinach dip and a bag of crinkle cut potato chips and ate my weight in both. Apparently getting into the spirit means me eating myself into a dip coma. […]