The weekend in numbers

Number of glasses of wine at Lara Lane's 23rd birthday sleepover party on Friday night: I'm going to round it down to about a bottle and a half (yes, I said down). The night started out innocently enough, with cupcakes and manicures and party games and a scary movie, then we all got drunk and invited boys over. Like high-school all over again. Reliving our youth. 

Number of successful pancakes made by us the next morning in our PJs: zero. Way too hungover for batter mixing and stove watching. Ended up with one charred pancake, one two-finger thick monstrosity that looked like an underdone crumpet, and something with lumps that caused Lara to make a beeline for the bathroom. Instead we lay around for a bit and tried not to think about our heads hurting.

Number of hours spent at Taste of Cape Town with Boyfriend on Saturday night: not too many. An outdoor festival in the cold makes for a short outdoor festival, even if the culinary delights and wine tasting are usually right up our alley.

Number of happy mothers on Sunday: one (well, one of mine at least, I don't know about you lot obviously). This is a very good thing. My mother is someone for whom you can buy the Wrong Flowers, which makes Mother's Day a bit of a panicky affair for my sibling and I. Anyway, Brother and I cooked her brunch, went for a walk in the new Greenpoint Urban Park (you have to go, it's gorgeous) and she's getting one of these today:

Thanks to @CapeTown_Girl for the recommendation

Number of kilos officially gained since Christmas as of my weigh-in this morning: five. FIVE. Fuck. Can you believe it. Heifer.