I totally faked my way through a workout this morning and then had a deep yearning for Oats In a Jar.  Unfortunately (or fortunately?), all my nut butter receptacles are full.  Empty jars?  Those I have.

I made Fake Oatmeal in a Jar!

In a play on Courtney’s upside down oats, I put a dollop of almond butter in an empty jar, and then smeared it all around like I’d been sneaking baby spoonfuls, carrot swipes and finger scoops out of the jar for weeks days.

I then put in some pumpkin oatbran (about 1/4 c. of each, cooked with almond milk, cinnamon and nutmeg), but the jar was still lacking volume, so I put some chopped apple and granola on top.

What a faker.

Later this morning while I faked being an attentive housewife by folding and putting away laundry (and obsessively plucking my eyebrows), the girls played their own game of pretend.

Gigi was the “Mommy,” hence the baby, and self-important literature.

Lulu was the “Daddy,” hence the cocky smirk and lack of pants.  She really got into her role.

This afternoon I completely copied the ornament that Gigi brought home last week by to turning it into a fake gift for unsuspecting neighbors, friends and relatives (don’t worry, there’s more to it, you sneaky neighbors, friends and relatives who are reading this).

We ran to the craft store and got all of our supplies: cookie cutters, glue, glitter and ribbon.

We painted on the glue,

put the glitter in Ziploc bags,

dropped the cookie cutter in,

and shook like a braless Aretha Franklin.

We let them dry and are going to tie on ribbons tomorrow.  After all the crafting, my kitchen looked like Tinkerbell ate some bad shellfish, but it was worth it.

Right now they are a great fake centerpiece for our table.

For dinner, I totally pulled a fake-out.  One of my favorite meals of all time has got to be a Reuben sandwich.  I think I ate one every day I was pregnant with Gigi, followed by Cheddar and Sour Cream potato chips and a Root Beer Float.  Every night.  Maybe that’s why I gained 70 pounds (!) and looked like a Rubens painting when I gave birth.

So with a dream in my head and glitter in my pants, I set off to make a Vegan Reuben Salad.

I started with a base of spinach and red cabbage.

I fried up some tempeh bacon which I had to scold Daddy from eating while I was cooking it.

I had to check myself, asking, “Did I just snap at you for eating tempeh bacon?!”  Uh, that wasn’t me, that was your fake wife.

My fake Russian dressing was more authentic than Dolph Lundgren in Rocky IV.  I mixed equal parts of ketchup and Annie’s Honey Dijon Dressing (I’d rather hang out in the Jersey Shore hot tub without antibiotics than eat mayonaise, vegan or not), and added in a spoonful of sweet pickle relish and a splash of apple cider vinegar.

The finished product was the base of spinach and red cabbage, topped with sauerkraut, tempeh bacon, caraway seeds, a sprinkle of nutritional yeast and all drizzled with Russian dressing.

Fake or not, no Reuben is complete without a side of (carrot) fries and a pickle.

So fakin’ good.

I might rename this the “Tina Fey/Sarah Palin Salad,” because the imitation could very well be better than the real thing.  I’m now going to head off to bed.  I’d say something about how there will be no faking involved, but I’d like to at least pretend to have some degree of taste and decency.

What a faker.