I had a recent conversation which brought this koan to mind:

TWO MONKS, Tanzan and Ekido, were walking down a muddy street in
the city. They came on a lovely young girl dressed in fine silks,
who was afraid to cross because of all the mud.

"Come on, girl," said Tanzan. And he picked her up in his arms,
and carried her across.

The two monks did not speak again till nightfall. Then, when they
had returned to the monastery, Ekido couldn't keep quiet any
longer.

"Monks shouldn't go near girls,' he said; "certainly not
beautiful ones like that one! Why did you do it?"

"My dear fellow," said Tanzan. "I put that girl down, way back in
the city. Are you still carrying her?"

I was talking to my father and he mentioned that he recently saw this post as he was showing my blog to a family friend. As it turns out, the joke that was told which had my father as the butt of the joke and which had stuck in my craw had actually been begun by my father. The retiree being honored at that dinner is not known for his jokes and probably had to reach for one related to his career.

I guess I can stop carrying her now.