I'm reminded of Mr Previous, who liked to watch TV in bed. He watched mostly stuff I did not care for. I didn't mind, as I could just snuggle up to him and read. But every time I'd settled into the book, he'd start talking to me, usually about something that was happening on the screen. I'd nod, reply and go back to reading, and then five minutes later he'd do it again. I asked him to stop, but he. Could. Not.
He simply could not handle that I was doing something separately from him, and not paying any attention to him.