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