The family comes around that Christmas, and sits in the living room. Some of them on the couch or in chairs, and some on the hardy-har-hardwood floor with pillows under their bums.

It isn’t a white Christmas, but that’s just as well for the kids who build giant killer robots on the screen, to much greater and long-lasting effect than you or my childhood holiday snowscapes. It also keeps the volume down in the basement with the treadmill and the television.