by Daisy Barringer

Here's the thing: I might have a slight emotional problem when it comes to watching football. One need only read my angry tweets on Sundays to realize this. Example: "Person who should die: Peyton Manning." (Really, Daisy? Really?) "Person I find whiny and annoying," maybe. "Person who failed to throw a TD pass for the first time since November of 2008," great. But wishing death upon a QB who the Niners sacked three times after he hadn't been sacked at all in his previous three games? Wishing death upon a QB who struggled to convert third downs and needed his RB to throw the game's only touchdown? Maybe a slight concussion or a torn ligament, but death? Seems like a slight overreaction.

It's hard though not to get upset and frustrated when your team has lost each of its last three road games by 4 points or less and when you're one game behind the crappy Cardinals in your laughing stock division, otherwise known as the NFC West. It's hard not to gulp down beer after beer after beer in an effort to numb the pain. It's hard not to let yet another loss ruin your entire day, if not week. I did discover a secret parents all over the world probably already know though... If you want to distract yourself when your team is about to lose its third straight game, all you need is to borrow someone's small child.

Now, I'm not saying the child should replace the beer guzzling, or that you should offer to babysit or anything insane like that. What I am saying is that if you have a friend with a two-year-old boy who enjoys having things thrown at his head, you should try to watch the game with him. And yes, I'm sure this prescription comes as a shock to many of you because, let's be honest, I'm notorious for being completely ambivalent to all people under the age of 21 (and "ambivalent" is putting it nicely), but if you're going to put a two-year-old in the same room as me and then tell me I can throw Nerf footballs at his head all day long? Well, I am totally OK with that.

In other news, I am pretty sure I know one two-year-old who, after yesterday, will think twice about shouting "Go Blue!" ever again.