At the Seder, we all sing “Dayenu” and list what would’ve been enough for G-d to do, then revel in the fact that He did more.

This gratitude for G-d’s miracles, “outstretched arm” and “mighty hand” is a central theme of the Seder. We are thankful that G-d saved us, and now we are safe and sound, out of Egypt and free.

But a few days after we left Egypt, after the main narrative of the Seder ended, it seems as though the Israelites didn’t think ten plagues and an escape from Pharaoh were enough. The gratitude ran out instantly on the banks of the Sea of Reeds.

Although clearly meant to be taken seriously, the following passage, which takes place at the edge of the Sea of Reeds, reads to me like a Larry David skit.

“The Israelites cried out to G-d, and they said to Moses, ‘Was it for want of graves in Egypt that you brought us to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, taking us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, saying, ‘Let us be, and we will serve the Egyptians, for it is better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness?’” (Exodus 14:11-12)

It is one of the most Seinfeld-esque things the Jews could say, the most stereotypically kvetchy thing you could imagine. Moses leads an entire people out of slavery with G-d’s help, and in return, when the going gets tough, they essentially say, “Why did we waste our time leaving Egypt? Now I guess we’ll just die here instead. Told you so.” Even after G-d split the Sea of Reeds, the Israelites would complain about the life-saving manna not long after.

In a way, I find these details make the story of Passover more relatable, more human. It shows the Israelites using their voice for the first time after being freed, even if they used it to kvetch. It shows that we Jews have never been perfect, and perhaps always have been a bit difficult.

There’s a fine line between thankfulness and ungratefulness that we have to walk as Jews. Life can be fantastic, thank G-d, but it can also be tragic. Part of being Jewish is balancing the ups and downs, thanking G-d and then questioning His decisions. We are a “stiff-necked” people, after all.

So during this Passover, if you’re frustrated that the Seder is too long or the matzah ball soup too cold, remember that it’s okay to not be thankful all the time. Your ancestors saw the greatest miracles in history and still kvetched.

Just remember that G-d might have patience for your kvetching, but if you want to be invited to next year’s Seder, at least pretend to like the soup.