A family is at the dinner table. The son asks the father, “Dad, how many kinds of tits are there?”

The father, surprised, answers, “Well son, a woman goes through three phases. In her 20s, a woman’s breasts are like melons, round and firm.

In her 30s and 40s, tits are like pears, still nice, hanging a bit. After 50 the boobs are like onions.”

“Onions?” the son asks. “Yes, you see them and they make you cry.” This infuriated his wife and daughter.

The daughter asks, “Mum, how many different kinds of willies are there?” The mother smiles, and says, “Well dear, a man goes through three phases also.

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 50 it’s like a Christmas tree.”

“A Christmas tree?” the daughter asks. “Yes,” the mother replies, “dead from the root up, the balls are just for decoration and it only goes up once a year.”

“””””

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