(Crossposted at the Rott.)
Okay, so two weeks ago or so, I stepped in front of a wedding-qualified official-type person for the (mumble mumble)th time (    ), engaged in a private little ceremony, and am now planning on where to go have dinner with two of my bestest friends in the Blogosphere and some of my Beloved Bride’s Buds™.
At this point, I’m thinking On The Border™.  Festive, there’s margaritas there, relatively inexpensive, there’s margaritas there, cozy, there’s margaritas there…did I mention that there’s margaritas there? 
La Reina Espatula™ is advising caution, however, as she’s not sure if her friends already have a bistro in mind.  “No worries”, I’m thinking, “I’ll just use my powers of persuasion…
(there will be a short pause here as BC finishes up with his sudden coughing fit)
…to talk ’em into OTB.  Okay?  Okay.
So our little two-vehicle convoy – myself, the SpatulaBride™ and the SpatulaGoddess™ – pull up at Ana’s former place of employment, a little school called Descubrir, I and my new wife walk inside while the SG waits in her van, so that I can announce Our Plans™ for Ana’s pals for the next four hours.
Before I can utter a word, however, they open the door to their main classroom…and both my jaw and that of the SpatulaBride™ hit the floor at warp speed.
For this is what awaited us…
(Click on the pic to take you to the rest of ’em.)
Needless to say, a bodaciously fun time was had by all (though probably the most fun was had by the Royal Heirs™, who were bouncing like Super Balls™ all over the place all night long).
And, as soon as we secure our house, we’ll have our own little homewarming shindig in the form of Texas Blogfest ’07:  Spats Can BBQ, Too!!!. 
Enjoy the pics!