A family is at the dinner table, eating Christmas lunch.
The son asks his father, “Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?”.
The father, surprised, answers, “Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her 20s, a woman’s breasts are like melons, firm and round. In her 30s and 40s, they’re like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After 50, they’re like onions …”.
“Onions, really?” his son asks.
“Yes, you see them and they make you cry!”
The mother of the family, meanwhile, is listening and becoming increasingly annoyed, so her daughter asks, “Mum, how many kinds of willies are there?”.
The mother smiles broadly, and answers, “Well, you see, a man’s penis goes through three stages in life. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it’s like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it’s like a Christmas tree …”.
“A Christmas tree?” her daughter asks.
“Yes, the tree is dead and the balls are just for decoration!”