I don't usually take photos at night. Mostly because for the past 22 months or so, the number of times I have been out of my house past dusk can be counted on two fingers. One, two.

My friend, The Award Winning Photographer, had been staying with us for the past week, and on her last night in town, Mr. Chef volunteered* to look after both babies while we went out for a wild and crazy night* on the town. 

*Where "volunteered" = was forced against his will (you mean, look after BOTH babies!!!! What if they wake up?!?!?!)

**Where wild and crazy = left at 8:30, home at 10, and the most eventful happening was eating noodles beside a ridiculously drunk girl who made banal small talk and then giggled uproariously, hand over mouth, when we responded, and then proceeded to lavish upon us gratuitous complements on our chopstick using skills. Apparently I'm even better at ye old 'sticks than the Japanese. And that's something that is going on my resume.

We did, however, take a walk around the red light district, purely for photo-taking purposes and I was insanely uncomfortable because OMG teh baybees at home without meh! and also, OMG THERE is the sexy time that happens in these "massage parlours" and "spas" and OMGEEEEEE gross and also ewwwwww. Anyway, these dudes are sketchy red light district people and ewwww gross, I'm going to stop typing now.