One of the main things you learn as an adult is that Yomim Tovim are not relaxing.

Shabbos is the day of rest. No other Yom Tov bills itself that way. Even Shavuos, which is the easiest Yom Tov, the minhag is not to sleep. Yamim Tovim are not about sleep. And with no other Yom Tov is this truer than Pesach. The average adult is more tired at the Seder than they are any other night of the year.

That’s our Mah Nishtanah.

But the kids are at their most excited level precisely because they get to stay up late. Kids actually look forward to how late they get to stay up. They brag about it to their friends: “We stayed up until 3!” and their friends are so jealous. Meanwhile, the adults are like, “We stayed up until 3…” and their friends are like, “Ha! We were done by 1.”

Chazal knew we’d be tired, which may be why they included pillows. Any other night of the year, we don’t bring pillows to the table. Our wives wouldn’t allow it.

“Dinner is for family conversation,” they’d say.

But at the Seder, we have pillows to facilitate the conversation. Try using that as an argument on a Friday night.

And it’s even evident by what we call certain parts of the Seder. For example, Shulchan Orech just means, “set table.” It’s just about setting the table. You don’t actually have to eat. You can just stare at the food and go, “Why are we eating now? I’m not hungry this late.” And someone says, “Well, at least we set the table. That’s what the Haggadah says to do. We can move on.”

It’s all the prep, obviously. How many nights were you up in preparation for Pesach just this week? That’s why these weird Pesach products exist, I think. Like pre-made salt water. Why would you buy salt water? At first, I thought maybe they had a great recipe. Like you could make your own, but this is the best salt water. They know the exact amount of salt. Also, that way you have a label you can read to get the sodium content. But now I think it’s because you’re so tired on Erev Pesach that maybe salt water is the thing that pushes you over the edge. You thought you made everything you needed for the Seder plate, but wait—salt water isn’t on the Seder plate.

And it’s not just cooking and kashering that we have to do at the last minute. We’re also running around and taping our cabinets shut, and then after we do that, we still have to remember all the things in there that we need to take out for Pesach. Like our meds. And what about band-aids? Matzah has sharp edges.

Don’t forget we have to bring our garbage cans to the park so we can dump them in the dumpsters that the city sets out, or, if it’s a trash-collection day, put the cans at the curb and keep peeking out hopefully until 10 minutes before the zeman, and then we hightail it to the park. We have to hightail it carefully, though, because garbage cans do not like standing upright in the back of a van.

This is besides how often we have to get up during Maggid to check on the food no one’s gonna eat.

And then you have to get up to look for the afikoman. All over the house that you just looked all over last night. And the night before Pesach you had a candle at least. You just ate chicken that you had no room for, you’re trying to digest it, and your wife goes, “Nu? Get up and start looking for the afikoman!”

In fact, the Seder goes to great lengths to make a big deal about people not getting up. Someone brings me water for Urchatz, they bring me water for Rachtza, but they can’t bring me the afikoman?

Why am I getting up? I’m buying the kids a present either way. There has not been a year that I didn’t buy them a present. I can spend four days of Chol Hamoed figuring out where to go, or I can spend one of those days saying, “How about we buy presents today?” and everyone will say, “Yay!” and I’ll get away cheaper.

So why am I getting up and making a half effort to look all over the house for an afikoman I don’t want to find? We’re at a disadvantage in the first place. Kids have time to plan afikoman strategies. Any adult who had a moment to breathe before Pesach would say, “Wait a minute. Why don’t I just buy a second identical afikoman bag and let the kids steal the decoy?”

Our kids are definitely more awake than we are. I am literally wearing a nightshirt that I plan to be buried in to the table t and leaning back on pillows and drinking wine and reading a story. What is keeping me awake?

All the things that we do so the kids shouldn’t fall asleep—what about doing things so the parents shouldn’t fall asleep?

I posit that Chazal knew we’d be tired. That’s why there are all these parts of the Seder designed to keep the parents awake: taking the ka’arah off the table and uncovering the matzos and stopping in middle of Maggid so everyone can refill the 16 droplets of wine they poured out of their kosos and finding the afikoman and staying on guard so your kids don’t steal it but also trying not to crack it more than it already is cracked—it’s all to keep the parents awake. As is having the kids keep asking questions.

It’s all so that the parents won’t fall asleep. It’s connected. We both—children and parents—need to be awake.

Mordechai Schmutter is a freelance writer and a humor columnist for Hamodia and other magazines. He has also published eight books and does stand-up comedy. You can contact him at [email protected].