How do you catch an elephant?

I told a crass joke at Grandma’s memorial.

My family put me up to doing it right after she died. I thought it would be hilarious so I agreed. I didn’t think too much about it. But I did have second thoughts once I found myself standing behind the pulpit of a church where I spent my formative years. 

I was raised Catholic. Mom converted to Catholicism in 1974 to marry my dad. My siblings and I had a lot of sleepovers with Grandma and Grandpa. Which, meant spending some Sunday mornings at the First Presbyterian Church. 

Where I now stood. On the very steps that the pastor used to invite the children of the congregation to gather on. Even the Catholic kids got to sit there and talk with the pastor about God. 

It blew my little Catholic brain that someone at the front of the church wanted me to do anything besides shut my mouth and quit talking. There is nothing – NOTHING – more bonkers to a Catholic-raised kid than the things that happened in non-Catholic churches. 

So, now I am behind a microphone. In front of Grandpa. And the rest of the family. And community members, business partners, parents of my friends. Former teachers and coaches. 

And, I’m about to open my mouth. The same mouth that Grandma used to wash out with soap for saying naughty things. (The irony. Haha.)

Grandma tried telling this joke dozens of times. She couldn’t get to the punchline without bursting into hysterics. So, in her honor, I asked the congregation: 

How Do You Catch An Elephant?

No one responded, so I let them know: 

First, you go into the jungle where they live. You cut down some trees, then dig a hole. Throw the trees in the hole and burn them down to ash. Then, line the hole with peas. When the elephant comes up to take a pea, kick him in the ash hole. 

The pastor said he wouldn’t be asking me to sub for him anytime soon. 🐘

I did not catch this elephant