Don't even ask me about zebra toast...

OK, so some of you are well aware of the myriads of stories that my sister and I tell about our parents for they are, frankly, a bit strange. However, this one has been so oft repeated, and yet so incredulously true, I figured I should note it down for posterity's sake.
My parents, when they travel, tend to carry around a few instant noodle bowls in their luggage. Why? In case, wherever their destination happens to be, they don't care for the particular cuisine that is presented to them, they can eat something that they know they'll like. Furthermore, my father is stereotypically Asian in that he does not know how to navigate a kitchen, and has his wife prepare and serve all of the food that he consumes.
So, on one particular vacation, they were in their hotel room. My mother decides she is going to take a shower. My father decides that he would like to have some food. He decides he is going to microwave some food to eat. So he takes out his little microwaveable container, and is delighted to find a microwave in the hotel room that they are staying in.
He pops in the food, closes the door, and presses 1:30. Nothing happens.
He tries again. Still, nothing happens: No lights, no whirring noises, nothing at all. Well, he is entirely perplexed: he's basically used all the knowledge he has of microwave ovens, and this has got him stumped.
So, he toddles over to the bed, sits down, and waits for my mother to finish her shower.
She comes out, and he asks her why, even though he's put the food into the microwave, and pushed the buttons, he hasn't been able to cook himself some food.
She wanders over to the microwave and says, "That's no microwave!"
(Here comes the punchline): "That's the security deposit box!"
Sadly, this does foretell the fact that if my mother dies first, my father will die within a week or two of starvation.