Eagles-Dallas vs. Thanksgiving dinner: When to eat?

Gonna be trouble in some homes on Thanksgiving.

"People should eat at 3 o'clock, right, Chip?" WIP's Angelo Cataldi asked Eagles head coach Chip Kelly on Monday morning. "Can you endorse my point on that?"

"I don't think you should start putting down laws about holidays," Kelly replied. "... I think maybe you could eat with the TV on, though."

The Eagles take on the hated Dallas Cowboys at 4:30 p.m. The game, which has major playoff implications, likely won't end until after 7:30 p.m.

Fans won't want to miss a single moment, especially if the game is close at the end. Considering Vegas oddsmakers have the Cowboys as a three-point favorite.

But this is bound to run afowl (pun intended) of those who prefer to dine late and think dinnertime viewing is bad manners.

So, as a public service, here's a game plan for tackling any tough negotiations.

"America prefers early!" You can honestly claim that most Americans start Thanksgiving dinner at 3 p.m. or earlier. In some homes, it's much earlier, even about 11:30 a.m. or noon. Fact: "Nearly 40 percent of families prefer to start by 2!"

If you're doubted you, show this handy chart, based on a half-dozen Internet sources:

Secretly turn oven temperature higher. The faster the food cooks, the sooner you eat. (Unless you screw it up and burn everything.)

"You want people wolfing down their food?" People will eat super-fast to be excused. Line: "That's how people choke! You want me to be giving Uncle Ralph a Spike Eskin and pop out a wad of mashed potatoes on the rug?"

This year, afternoon sales! All sorts of stores are opening their doors on Thanksgiving this year. Line: "So if we have dinner early, it gives you time to shop while we watch the game! You'll get away from us screaming fans."

Maybe Mockingjay? Line: "You're dying to see installment three of The Hunger Games, right? Because it's such a big hit, tickets should be much easier to get in the late afternoon than evening."

Put your foot down. This is bad advice because it never works. But basically if there's no budging, you turn into a sulking stubborn bear. "Fine! Eat without me! I'll have mine cold at halftime!" Make sure opposing party isn't wielding a knife or heavy frying pan.

"C'mon, you love a challenge!" Halftime's the plan of WIP spokeswoman Cindy Webster, according to Cataldi. But is 20 minutes or so enough? Hmm, maybe people during breaks people start loading their plates, so upon sitting, it's ready, set, chow down.

Here are some lines to try:

"We promise not to swear."

"The game's not THAT distracting." The broadcast is mostly filler, Very little action. Line: "We'll have plenty of chances to talk during commercials, time-outs, replays."

"These days, all sorts of restaurants have TVs. It's a new tradition!"

"I promise to talk to all the in-laws before dinner."

And maybe even:

"I'll put the game on mute." Banter: "That way it won't disrupt conversation at all! What? Me? Scream and shout if Dallas scores? I promise to be mute, too! Especially if I can listen to the radio with earbuds. Yes, I promise to make occasional eye contact with human beings."

"I still have one good ear to listen." Put an earbud in one of your ears - preferably the one facing away from your significant other or parents - and listen to Merrill Reese's call of the game on WIP.

More lines:

"We won't make a mess."

"Of course, we'll wait on ourselves."

"Sure, we'll keep an eye on the little kids while we're watching the game." 

"Look, if the game's a total blowout, we'll return to the table and talk." 

Running back and forth. "We'll go watch only when the Eagles have the ball. When Dallas does, we'll return to the dinner table."

Notice if game can be seen on neighbor's TV. Sit, and adjust shades/curtains accordingly.

Mirrors. If TV is out of sight, turn it on mute before being last to dinner. Try to sit to view it in a mirror or reflection in a window. If not, set up a series of shiny objects -- vases, silver bowls, water pitchers -- to glimpse the game.

Hide smartphone on your plate. Build huge wall of mashed potatoes, stuffing, dinner roll and turkey so no one can see you're watching your NFL app.

Mount TV under table. Hold periscope in lap.

As you hug wife, hold up smart phone behind her back.

Plan frequent bathroom/smoke breaks to check smart phone.

Find a huge cup that isn't see-through. Drop muted smartphone inside. Pretend to drink when need a closer look.

Rig beer cozy to secretly hold smartphone. To cover up need to stare directly for a minute, hold up beer while commenting on its flavor or beer's importance in life. or making a thanksgiving toast.

Mount smartphone to back of wine box. Graciously pour for others, but keep it turned to be seen only by you and co-conspirators on either side.

Google Glass.

Use a fake call app. "Oh, no! I can't believe this! I have to go into work / fight a fire / deliver a baby / fight a war / go to the nursing home."

Forget something important. Then remember it right before kickoff. "Oh, I can't believe this! I left the wine/my phone/the stove on at home! I'll only be a minute." Follow up with a phone call about getting a flat tire ...

Divorce.

DVR whatever you miss. Catch up the nanosecond you empty your plate.

Bargain. Maybe you can get off easy, by agreeing to buy some jewelry or new clothes. Anything ... as long as it doesn't involve abstinence, the fine arts or a Justin Bieber concert.

Contact staff writer Peter Mucha at 215-854-4342 or pmucha@phillynews.com. Follow @petemucha on Twitter.