When you read a short story like this one, there's no mistaking the reasons Bradbury is regarded as a master storyteller. His stories are at their most powerful when he's writing of children, as here, and such as Dandelion Wine, or All Summer In a Day. He creates a sense of inevitability, even resignation. You can see the ending coming, you even know why it's coming, and which turn you took to get you there. Still it drags you along to the end, and the story lingers, long after you've read the last word. This theme turns up repeatedly in Bradbury's shorter works, this idea of mind numbing and load lightening technologies destroying our connection as families, in society. As our external lives become more automated, our selves begin to disintegrate, and our natural attachments can become lost. In this story, children use technology to satisfy their every whim. What makes it so chilling is that one can see elements of our current reality in the fantasy. Maybe what makes him the master is his ability to frame our faults as "developed" people into a story that we must hope could never come true.