יום ראשון, ו׳ תמוז תשפ״וSunday, June 21, 2026
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Dear Mordechai, How do I get the kids in camp to actually pay attention during learning groups? Learning Director, Camp Kol Turkey
On the other hand, you can forget to feed your fish and they won’t say anything, like they’re awkward little house guests
Because we’re all watching our weight, And eating with our brains, We figured that this year we’d give out Veggies and whole grains.
Okay, so no matter what exercise he asks us to do, some part of me complains.
Sometimes people ask me questions that have been circulating for a while. That doesn’t mean I don’t have answers, though.
Playing dreidel is like the miracle of the oil. You expect a game to take ten minutes and it lasts for eight nights.
So my advice is to put small trackers on all his yarmulkes – the kind that make a “Bip-bip!’ noise when you push a button on your key fob – so you can find them when he can’t.
Inform the merchant of your preferences: Do you want a yellow esrog or a green one? Pittum still on or pre-broken off for your convenience? Fat or skinny? The kind that fits in an esrog box or the kind you have to lift with both hands?
Though the least you can do is be aware of whether you have a good voice or not and act accordingly.
Whenever my son’s class takes a walk to the corner, I have to send in five bucks, but his camp goes on trips every week and I don’t hear a word.
Apparently, according to experts, memory loss actually comes from passing through the doorway to another room.
Maybe the point is that we should concentrate on the basic mitzvos before we move onto the fancy ones, like koshering our kids’ braces.
Half the people you ask want something substantial and homemade that they can eat for lunch, and half the people want candy, because it’s shelf stable, and, no offense, certified kosher.
Women, on the other hand, are not really supposed to learn a lot of Gemara, because that’s like giving a soldier a loaded weapon.
The doctor said, “Make sure to get a really expensive one. You spend a third of your life in bed.”
My parents have a coffee table in their den, and I’ve never seen anyone drink coffee on it.
Wait. Why would I give you 22 minutes first? How about you give me the world, and then I give you the 22 minutes.
For the most part, though, people tend to base their decision on how long the lines in the store are going to be.
Now that Pesach is over, we return you to your regularly-scheduled pressing questions: Dear Mordechai, Can I use a nose hair trimmer during Sefirah? Harry Lipman Dear Harry, Yes, as long as your nose hairs are so bad that they’re affecting your job. Like if you have a desk job, and they interfere […]
So generally, I dance for a few minutes and then stand off to the side with all the other people who don’t dance and feel like they have to make conversation, even though that’s when the music is the loudest.
Imagine you were a doctor, and then, one day a year, everyone tried his or her hand at surgery.
Dear Mordechai, How do I prevent my Smartphone from breaking the first time I drop it? Shattered in Pieces
Because you can’t have kids pouring huge jugs of oil into tiny glasses, unless you want to turn your house into an environmental disaster.
So the real question is, “How can we, as hosts, make sure our guest beds are comfortable?” Because your guests will never say anything.
Though if you do have a schach mat, you’ll realize that it cannot actually support the weight of the water.
Maybe now that your kids are back in school, you should start cleaning for Pesach.
If I’m going on for oven mitts, I don’t want to see sock puppets until at least page 40.
Alternatively, you can try your absolute hardest to listen whenever she says anything.
Father’s Day comes every year. How many drills can you get him?
Pesach is so liberating (if you excuse the expression). It’s the only time I can eat anywhere in the house, guilt free! Matzah in bed!
Purim around here is crazy. And I’m not just talking about the amount of questions I get.
Dear Mordechai, Someone gave me a gift that I don’t like. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings. What should I do? You Shouldn’t Have
This week we deal with questions from people who, one way or another, are on their own. And as usual, we don’t really help them.
Dear Mordechai, What is the origin of the custom to eat Seudah Shlishis in shul? Mizmor L’David
This week we deal with Chanukah presents and the kids who probably don’t deserve them:
Yom Tov is no longer upon us, for a change, so now it’s time to get to the things we promised we’d do after it was over. I mean besides dieting. Maybe we’ll do that after the next Yom Tov.
If you’re looking to get away from the irritations of technology and people in your way, the best place to go is Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
Ever since I started this advice column, I’ve noticed that quite a number of readers – and you in particular - haven’t been sending me questions. And I get it. You don’t know what to ask. I don’t give “real advice,” by which I mean “advice you can use without making the situation worse,” and you have no idea what kind of questions you can ask that I might have answers for. With Dr. Yael, for example, you figure that you should ask her problem-type questions. With an “ask the rabbi” column, you ask him shaylos. But what am I an expert in?
I would have to say that one of the most annoying things about having a newspaper advice column, aside from all these people writing to me and asking for advice, is that they frequently don’t tell me WHY they’re asking.
Welcome back to “You’re Asking Me?” where we attempt to answer questions sent in by people who fortunately have fake names, so they won’t be embarrassed. I don’t know how they got through school, though.
Welcome back to “You’re Asking Me?” where we delve into questions sent in by readers. We might as well. It’s not like we can listen to music.
While Pesach cleaning, I found a whole bunch of questions that were sent in at some point that I somehow haven’t gotten to. So I’m going to address them now, in the hopes that doing so will get me out of Pesach cleaning.
I get a lot of questions around Purim, and I don’t always have a chance to answer them all. So let’s get started:
You know what I noticed since I started writing this column? That people don’t write in to ask questions so much as they write in to complain.
Welcome to “You’re Asking Me?” the column where people are basically saying, “This guy doesn’t know me at all. Let me ask him for advice.”
Ever since I started this question-and-answer column, people have been coming over and asking me questions. Baruch Hashem, right?
There are a lot of newspaper advice columns out there. But what makes this one different is that sometimes, you don’t want to ask an expert. Sometimes you want to ask a regular guy who might not actually know more than you.
When people ask me what kind of column I write for The Jewish Press, I say, “advice,” but I actually make those quotes with my fingers. I don’t think I’ve actually saved any lives yet. But this column is still great way to vent about your problems, so long as you can figure out how to put them in the form of a question.
Welcome once again to “You’re Asking Me?” where we answer any and all questions sent in by readers. It’s a lot like all the other “ask the expert” columns, except that, whereas the other experts are interested in giving you a well-researched answer, our interest is more in meeting our deadlines so we can get back to looking for our car keys. Most of the time, we tackle advice questions, but once in a while we have to take a break from those, because of the lawsuits.
Welcome once again to “You’re Asking Me?” – the column where people blindside me with questions, and I have to answer them, even though, oftentimes, answering questions only leads to more questions. Especially the way I do it.
Welcome once again to “You’re Asking Me?” – a humorous advice column that is pretty much like any other advice column, except in terms of helpfulness. Like all other advice columns, we try to answer your questions, but if you stump us, we say, “That’s beyond the scope of this article,” and we move on with our lives. That’s a nice way of saying, “We have no idea. There are people you can pay by the hour for this sort of thing.”
Ever since I’ve started writing “You’re Asking Me?” people have been writing in to ask for advice, like they expect me to have all the answers. Seriously. Don’t these people have any friends? Or anyone else they can ask?
Welcome back to “You’re Asking Me?” where we answer questions sent in by confused readers who thought they were writing in to Dr. Yael. That said, I’d like to thank all the readers who wrote in. I’m going to attempt to address your questions, not so much because I know the answers, but more so that I have an excuse to get out of cleaning for Pesach.
Welcome back to “You’re Asking Me?” where we try to answer any questions that you send in at any time. And we do mean any time.
Welcome once again to “You’re Asking Me?” – the column that answers all kinds of questions, depending on how loosely you define the word “answer.” Whereas other so-called advice columns are interested in providing you with well-researched advice, my concern is more to get you to stop asking me questions, by whatever means necessary.
