Easter Egg Hunt: Why Do We Hide Them?

Ah, the Easter Egg Hunt. The one time of year when perfectly rational adults encourage small children to sprint around gardens, public parks, and occasionally living rooms in a frenzied sugar-fuelled scavenger hunt. And let’s not forget the strategic brilliance involved—because hiding an egg so well that even you forget where you put it? That’s a talent. A talent that often results in discovering a melted chocolate egg behind the sofa in mid-July, followed by a moment of deep existential reflection on how much of a disaster your organisational skills truly are.

But where did this madness come from? Why do we collectively agree that the best way to celebrate Easter is by concealing small, decorative (or more importantly, chocolate) eggs in the most inconvenient places possible? Why do we spend hours painstakingly hiding them only for children to either find them in three seconds or somehow miss the most obvious ones? And why, oh why, do parents always swear they hid a dozen eggs, yet only ten are ever found?

Blame the Germans. Specifically, the 16th-century ones. Legend has it that the Easter Bunny, or ‘Osterhase,’ was a magical hare that laid coloured eggs for well-behaved children. Because of course, a rabbit that lays eggs is a completely logical mythological creature. Parents would hide these eggs in gardens, sending children off on their first introduction to the concept of ‘life isn’t fair’ when their sibling found more eggs than they did. It was, perhaps, one of history’s earliest lessons in emotional resilience and the first step towards a lifetime of competitive holiday traditions.

As with all the best traditions, it spread. The idea hopped its way over to England, thanks to German immigrants, and then took a transatlantic leap to America, where it transformed into the chocolate-fuelled extravaganza we know today. The Victorians, never ones to shy away from an elaborate celebration, fully embraced it, adding decorative eggs, elaborate bonnets, and an impressive ability to make everything look like a pastel-themed fairytale. By this point, egg hunts were less about religion and more about social gatherings, extravagant parties, and making sure children had something to keep them occupied while the adults engaged in the far more serious task of tea drinking and gossiping about their neighbours.

The rise of industrially produced chocolate in the 19th and 20th centuries sent the Easter Egg Hunt into overdrive. Gone were the days of painstakingly painting hard-boiled eggs—now, it was all about foil-wrapped delights that could be mass-produced and mass-consumed. This, of course, led to the annual parental tradition of making last-minute dashes to the supermarket on Easter Eve to buy whatever was left on the shelves, which usually resulted in children receiving oddly shaped novelty chocolates that were 80% packaging and 20% actual treat.

And then, there’s the famous White House Easter Egg Roll, which, in true American fashion, started because of government intervention. In the 19th century, kids used to roll eggs on Capitol Hill’s lawn, but politicians (presumably fed up with stepping on eggshells) banned it. President Rutherford B. Hayes, never one to ignore the plight of egg-rolling children, moved the event to the White House lawn in 1878. It’s still held there today, proving that sometimes bureaucracy can lead to fun traditions. Over time, the event grew into a massive annual spectacle, featuring celebrity guests, oversized mascot bunnies, and just enough political goodwill to keep it a White House staple. Because nothing says ‘political diplomacy’ like a giant fluffy rabbit posing for photo ops with small children.

Of course, modern Easter Egg Hunts have evolved. What was once a quaint childhood activity has now become fiercely competitive, with some parents treating it as an Olympic-level event. There are glow-in-the-dark hunts, underwater hunts, and even high-tech hunts with GPS-tracked eggs. Some companies have even taken it further, turning Easter into a marketing bonanza, with limited-edition golden eggs that win you prizes, eggs hidden inside shopping centres to encourage maximum consumer spending, and even online virtual egg hunts for those who prefer their scavenging to be screen-based.

Public hunts have reached new levels of absurdity, with thousands of children descending upon fields and parks, armed with baskets and an unwavering determination to leave no stone unturned. Anyone who has witnessed a toddler faceplant into a flowerbed in pursuit of the last foil-wrapped egg knows that these events can get heated. There have even been reports of parents getting into scuffles over eggs, presumably forgetting that they could just buy a whole pack of them at the supermarket on the way home.

And then there are the horror stories—parents jumping fences, shoving other people’s children out of the way, and occasionally full-grown adults pocketing eggs meant for toddlers. Because nothing quite sums up the Easter spirit like aggressive hoarding and mild property damage.

Despite the madness of the Easter egg hunt, it’s hard to deny the charm of it all. The joy of a child finding an egg, the delight of devouring chocolate for breakfast with zero consequences, and the sheer absurdity of watching grown adults debate the fairness of egg placement. There’s something universally endearing about the thrill of the hunt, no matter how many times you’ve done it before. And let’s be honest, it’s also an excellent excuse for parents to ‘help’ their children manage their sugar intake by sneakily confiscating a few eggs for themselves.

Because at the end of the day, isn’t that what Easter is all about? A bit of fun, a lot of sugar, and the shared experience of pretending not to notice when someone ‘accidentally’ eats more chocolate than they should. And if you happen to find a long-lost egg sometime in June? Consider it a delightful surprise… or a deeply concerning hygiene issue, depending on its state.