In need of therapy

I know you're thinkin' this title is about me...

but it's not.

{Although, it wouldn't be a bad idea, I'm sure.  And by therapy, I'm not talkin' heart surgery with a psychologist.  Noooo,  I'm talking body massages, facials, mani's, pedi's.  THAT kind.}

Remember the 'day' my lil' gal was having?
Try telling a lil' girl who eats, sleeps and breaths dance
NOT to jump on her bum foot the second it starts feeling a lil' better.

Turns out, she had/has a tendon that {somehow}
popped out of place near her ankle.

Due to the swelling {and continued use},

it was not going back where it should.

No wonder poor baby girl was hurtin'.

Here she is getting therapy at our chiropractor's office.

{Love it there.}

Please excuse the bad cell pic.
The mom-purse really isn't the safest place for the Nikon.

I'm going to follow Gracie's lead and kick my feet up too.
Ha!  Who am I kidding?
With 2 gals under tow and chores up to my eye-balls,
I'm pushing away from the computer to start my Thanksgiving relay.

When Gracie starts singing...
"Go start the laundry...."
to the tune of
"Go tell it on the mountain"...
Well, you know it's time.