I asked my 18 brothers and sisters and they don't know either.
Ok so here's what you do.
Go onto Amazon or Ebay or whatever and purchase a small dog cage. Make SURE that is is made of either completely STEEL. Nothing else. Get advanced shipping or whatever gets it to your door as fast as humanly possible. Now wait patiently for your package to arrive. Once the delivery person knocks on your door to get you to sign for your package tell them to wait until you open the box. If they seem leery of you explain that you have had trouble in the past with your parcels and you just want to make sure that your order is correct. Open the box and remove the cage from the box. Inspect it thoroughly. Now LISTEN CAREFULLY! This is the part you can't mess up. Look up from the cage and stare into that poor delivery person's eyes. Like so deep you can see their ancestors. Say these exact words. "I knew it... I can't believe I ordered a nickel less cage."
They say he died from shear boredom.
Allow me to regale you with a couple tales illustrating my late dad's sense of humor. Last names faked because I'm not that stupid.
(1). At a routine PTA meeting about me in my Georgia school, everyone found themselves packed into a hot and stuffy room waiting for the boredom to end. Shoulder to shoulder fun, can you picture it?
My dad lets one rip. It's loud, smelly, and echoes. The room falls silent as the fart invites itself unfavorably to the nostrils of those in attendance.
He turns to my mom and with his best shocked face says, "... Patty!"
I like to think he slept on the couch that night.
(2). During my old man's wait for us to arrive at the new home he had bought, he had to deal with ongoing construction and roughed it at a hotel for a few nights. He was a retired Master Chief Machinist's Mate, so cramped quarters reminded him of the sub's nuclear engine room. No biggie.
An interview comes up for a civilian nuclear power plant nearby, and before you know it my dad's sitting before these stuffy, serious, wrinkly old board members and managers, having his (mostly military) resume picked through.
"Well Mister Smith, we're impressed. Twenty two years is no small amount of time to dedicate to the service. But do you feel you're qualified to operate and audit a civilian fission power plant?"
My dad thinks on it for a second.
"Well no, sir, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."
He got the job immediately.
Thanks for caring to read. I miss him a lot and this subreddit always reminds me of his sense of dry, quick humor. Take care!
8 Year Old Me: "Dad, I'm bored."
Dad: "Watch out for termites!"
Eventually he got my mother to respond as well.
"Must be hard on you."
I have since learned not to express my boredom to my family.