It's the end of my shift as I sit on the bench looking at my open locker.
My eyes come to rest on my old beat-up lunch box with its dings, dents and scratches.
It seems a lot like me. A union man from the "school of hard knocks."
Over the years I have suffered my share of dents and dings, but still take pride in my American work ethic.
I think back and chuckle at me as a newlywed requesting my wife to make my lunch box sandwiches "with the mayo spread to all four corners and the sandwich cut on the diagonal."
On her own, she would sneak an occasional love note in my box along with my favorite Kit-Kat candy bar.
Taped to the inside of my locker is the smiling stick figure artwork from my young daughter. Found in my box many years ago.
My lunch box not only contains food...but also love.