Anyway.... Thoughts/impressions on this opener? 127 words.
My fear of Styrofoam coolers and pre-made picnic sandwiches of all sorts stems directly from my mother and her love of dead animals. Little dead things were stashed all over the house. Amongst the wrinkled wrapping paper and asymmetrically flattened bows and an ancient bottle of Elmer’s mucilage in the antique desk on the landing were dead butterflies. They nestled in cotton in jewelry boxes. Little crumbly bits of wings and snapped hairy legs like splinters dusted the bottoms of drawers. Tucked in the back of the upstairs top bathroom drawer was a fly embedded in an elderly yellowing plastic cube. Crickets and cicadas lay shriveled, the iridescence chipping off their wings, in the ornate but fairly useless wood table with bubbly-carved legs in the living room.