For a good thirty years, it was a tradition for my sisters and me to take our mother to lunch for her birthday every February. We would go to the same Chinese restaurant that my family had all patronized for years. The owner and wait staff knew us by name. The four of us would always spend time looking over the menu, asking each other what they were planning to order. It was a major production each and every time as the menu was extensive. The head waiter would smile and wait patiently for our choices. After making our selections, he would wave his hand at the busboy who then ducked into the kitchen and immediately returned with those very same selections. You see, no matter how much time we spent perusing the menu, we always ordered the exact same thing. My mother always had the sweet and sour pork, my older sister the shrimp with lobster sauce, my younger sister the chicken cashew, and myself the chicken chow mein. He