Introducing The Rockettes

Dear Rockettes, Rockette

On the very first day on my brand-new job in New York my boss sits me down and says,

“Sunny you’re going to be working out in a place called Far Rockaway. It’s far out there but I’ll help you Hop Stop it and you should be able to find your way out there easily enough.” 

So I shrug my shoulders thinking if distance is the most challenging aspect of the job I’m up for it. Shouldn’t be a problem.  

Little did I know Rockettes, that throughout the time I spent at The Rock in Far, Far Away I would encounter each of you and you would be the center of a majority of my experiences in Far, Far Away as well as my biggest challenge.  

My challenges with you started the moment I stepped foot into The Rock and for many months I remained cool, calm and collected simply taking it all in but the one experience that hit the most abruptly and really caused me to stand up and take notice wasn’t the time I called one of your sisters because she was over an hour late picking up her two children and she told me, 

“Y’all need to stop calling me, you’re using up all my minutes.” 

Nope, it wasn’t that time. It also wasn’t the time I stopped in Mickey D’s to grab an Iced Coffee and two Rockettes were in there fighting because they had the same Baby Daddy and were trying to decide who actually had claim over him. 

It also wasn’t the time I called a Rockette who didn’t pick up her daughter at all and she said, 

“What do you want me to do about it? I can’t leave my house to come get her.”

Wasn’t the 30 year old who is best friends with the 60 year old, wasn’t the lesbian couple that came arms wrapped firmly around each other to pick up their kids, wasn’t the bright red wig accompanied with the bright pink Pink track suit, wasn’t the beastly Rockettes that have four children that all look exactly like each other, wasn’t the cursing, wasn’t the Rockettes walking their three week old children in the wind and rain because the thermometer does say 60 degrees, wasn’t any of that which caused me to sit up and take notice of the Rockettes. 

It was the day I picked up the phone and an employee of the school who also happens to have grandchildren that attend the school was SCREAMING through the other end with her three daughters in the background about how she was gonna come up to that school and she was gonna file a complaint against one of my employees who threatened to “floor her grandson”. So I in my Cali Sunshiney voice ask, 

“Floor him? What’s that?” 

Amidst the screaming her grown 30+ daughters are doing in the background of “Don’t make me come up there and eff that bleep up” and “I will eff that bleep bleep up!” Grandma Rockette proceeds to explain to me that she truly believes with all her heart and the passionate hearts of the three Rockettes behind her that one of my grown woman employees threatened to knock her seven year-old son out.  She was beyond reasoning. To such a point that I began to agree with her reasoning. 

“Yes, please come file a report.”

“Okay, see you up her with your Rockette crew when you come to handle this.”

As I’m getting to a point of wondering if all sense has been thrown out the window in the Rockette world ANOTHER employee of The Rock comes rushing into the room to give her side of the story and explain how she was the one that made the phone call that started all of this madness in the first place!

Oy vey!

Only in the Land of the Rockettes! 

However, I can’t 100% fault you Rockettes because this was an example of active parenting. In my next letter I’ll touch on the times you have inactively parented. 

Love Always, 
Sunny

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