We didn't want a wussy can opener that would break after a few uses, so we bought the most badass looking piece of hardware we could find, all black and chrome. It looked a lot like this one - we figured that in a pinch, it could double as the jaws of life.
It died after it opened three cans. So we bought another one. Different brand, but a similarly hardcore design. This one made it past three cans - nearly to six, in fact - before it began to limp. You could still open a can, but you had to hold it at just the right angle, the can had to be a certain weight, and I strongly suspect the moon needed to be in Jupiter. A priest may have helped as well.
And then while moseying through the mall one day, I thought of my mother. For as long as I could remember, she had a very practical and nondescript can opener. It didn't look like much, but it had clearly lasted for years without breaking down. So I ducked into the nearest homegoods store and selected the plainest, simplest design I could find.
When I came out, I saw Ben returning from running an errand in the opposite direction. I pranced up to him and proudly displayed my prize, explaining my General Theory of Mom's Can Opener. He stared at me for a moment, then reached into his shopping bag and withdrew a nearly identical can opener...and then said that for as long as he could remember, his mother had used one like that.
We've had them for several years now, and they both still work like new. I guess Mother really does know best.
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