A family is sitting around the supper table. The son asks his father, "Dad, how many kinds of breasts are there?
The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts.
In her twenties, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her thirties to forties, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After fifty, they are like onions."
"Onions?"
"Yes, see them and they make you cry."
This infuriated the wife and daughter so the daughter said, "Mum, how many kinds of willies are there?"
The mother, surprised, smiles and looks at her daughter and answers, "Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In a man's twenties, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard.
In his thirties and forties, it is a birch, flexible but reliable.
After his fifties, it is like a Christmas tree."
"A Christmas tree"?
"Yes, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only