Her face clouded over like a hailstorm on a summer's day but she acquiesced, climbing into her chair with a scowl then twisting to watch the television while she was technically at the table.
“Lucy.” Harold banged the end of a chopstick on the table like a makeshift gavel. “Can we have your attention here, please.”
“But I don't want to miss anything.” This from the girl who would wander off to play with her toys until anyone tried to turn over and then would threated tear until they turned it back again.
“Uncle? Would you pause the film, please? Just while we're eating so that Lucy doesn't miss anything.”
“I don't think I can, Harold. It's not a videotape.”
“Just press pause. It's streaming. It'll give it a chance to buffer, anyway.”
“Do they buffer?” Jasfoup helped himself to a dish of curried eels. “I thought continuous streaming was a thing no. Millions of subscribers watching a circular egg-timer.”
“I don't actually know. You'll have to ask Dill.”
“Have you ever noticed the new egg timer looks exactly like a recycling symbol? Apt, really, because that's exactly what they do with television these days.”
“Why are we having Chinese again?” Lucy pushed away her plate. “I want mashed potato.”