Dining out without din

We go to a delicious lunch at the Zen where the music is soft, the decor is gentle and we are remembered.  I think there should be special meals for under six and over eighty so we could feel less guilty about leaving the extras.  Not having to plan seems almost as important as not cooking after all these years.  The first cake I baked was eighty years ago when I had learned to sound out words and my mother was called to the store:  I puzzled out the recipe put it together and put the pan into the hot oven.  When mother came back she was horrified but I was neither burnt nor unhappy--trouble was I soon was given kitchen jobs and  am now finding myself rather bored with the whole process.  Tonight I'll have shushi for dinner having lost all hesitance about asking for a box.