Have you heard of “My Pillow?” Michael Lindell is now extremely famous for “inventing” it – even though every single one of us already had a soft rectangular object on our beds known as a regular pillow. But Google him to discover how simply by tweaking it slightly, and putting the word “My” in front of his product (“My Pillow!”) he realized fame and fortune. My first thought was, “If he achieved all that merely by using a tiny possessive pronoun, what can I accomplish by adding a wonderful adjective that embodies an entire race, religion, culture, tradition, food, – plus tons of guilt?” Of course I had to find out...

Tada! Introducing some early prototypes for a new line of “My Jewish” inventions:

My Jewish Pillow – Alright, so what if I started with the easy one? Make no mistake, this is no copycat. “My Jewish Pillow” is much fancier than the rudimentary “My Pillow.” For instance, never worry about bringing “My Jewish Pillow” to recline at the table on Pesach, because it’s stuffed with 100% fish down so it’s Pareve. On Yom Kippur, you’ll find “My Jewish Pillow” to be excruciatingly uncomfortable to accommodate your personal Night of Affliction. And reciting the Shema before bedtime activates the dry-erase pen and whiteboard on the inside of the pillowcase. Use this to list tomorrow’s Mitzvah To-Do list – unburdening your brain and ensuring a good night’s sleep. Stubborn insomnia? No problem! Pushing the “Bubbe Button” on the left side of the pillow turns on a cushioned speaker that generates a recording of “My Jewish Grandma” narrating her last five doctor’s appointments. Alternatively, flipping the “Sermon Switch” on the right plays three of the longest speeches any Rabbi has ever given in the history of the High Holy Days. Either way, rest assured…sleep will be your only escape. (Order now and receive your bonus talking Guilt Quilt – Batteries not included.)

My Jewish Batteries – You knew this one was coming. But I’m tweaking the name on the package from Duracell to DuraKvell to justify it.

My Jewish Fit-Bit – This one is gonna fly off the shelves! Especially my version for circumcisions, which I’m calling “Brit-Fit-Bit.” It will cut out (no pun intended) the stress of your special event by calculating the weight and length of the baby boy - before and after the ceremony. It also sends notifications alerting you how many miles away the Mohel is from your home, digital reminders to whomever is holding the baby on the ceremonial pillow to take deep calming breaths, and calculates how much rugelach to purchase in relation to the guests’ appetites, considering what they’ve just witnessed.

My Jewish Tablecloth– Perfect for Shabbat dinners and at-home simchas because there’s a timer that turns the cloth a bright stop-sign red color after twenty minutes (the normal time researchers say signals of satiety travel from your stomach to your brain) indicating to diners they are now full.

My Jewish Bread – Yes it’s still just Challah, but I’m marketing it as baked with “My Jewish Flour” and “My Jewish Yeast” which, when placed atop “My Jewish Tablecloth” (order easily directly above!) gets you the complete set, aptly named “My Jewish Dining Room.”

My Jewish Shampoo – There’s no need to “rinse and repeat,” because this brilliant concoction was formulated by Harvard degreed scientists and does what it should the very first time it’s lathered on your keppy.

My Jewish Hammer – Before you ask, “How much use could there be for a hammer in a Jewish home?” answer me this. How do you put up your ketubahs, your mezuzahs, and your sukkahs? (Aha! Nailed it, didn’t I?) Note to self: Because ‘Hammer’ comes from the root word ‘Ham,’ to be on the safe side think about calling this “My Jewish Slammer.”

My Jewish Shoes – Pure canvas sneakers that will only go on your right foot first.

My Jewish Socks – Sorry, I keep requesting this typo be corrected. There are no Jewish Socks, silly. That’s supposed to say “Sacks.” Specially insulated To-Go bags a hostess sends all the leftovers home in. But to save face, maybe I’ll disguise the sack to look like an ordinary sock (because everyone loses one in the dryer) and that way nobody gets embarrassed leaving with an obvious container of brisket and rugelach.

My Jewish Camera – With a click of a button, your image is surrounded in a digital frame of matzo and no matter the weather (to make your mother happy) it photoshops a sweater on what could only be described as your svelte, lithe body.

My Jewish Stairmaster – This sophisticated piece of workout equipment automatically posts daily updates on Facebook depicting the following on your behalf. Flights: 530 Steps: 32,000 Calories: Far more than consumed % Fat Burned: All Heart Rate: Beats to the tune of Hava Nagila Interval: Awesome!

You won’t find an easier Exercise (In Futility) at any gym.

My Jewish Scale – If a picture is worth a thousand words – surely a single sentence would put any number to shame! Therefore “My Jewish Scale” only gives feedback in positive, polite phrases. Step on it and look down to see, “What are you, the poor skinny tailor from Fiddler?” Or, “I want that you should fress!” Or “Your pulkes are disappearing, do me a favor and stop eating like a bird.”

My Jewish Doctor – Alright, so this one isn’t exactly an invention per se, but it’s crucial to choose the right physician so at your next check-up he will accept a photograph from “My Jewish Camera,” a printout from “My Jewish Stairmaster,” and he’ll weigh you on “My Jewish Scale,” giving you a clean bill of health and granting you permission to attend a Break-the-Fast dinner in “My Jewish Dining Room” where I’ll send you home with all the leftovers stuffed inside – wait for it... “My Jewish Sock.”