Afamilyisat the dinner table. The son asksthe father, “Dad, how many kindsof boobs 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 30sand 40s, theyare like pears, still nice, hanging a bit. After 50, they arelikeonions.” “Onions?” the son asks. “Yes. You see them and they make you cry.” This infuriated hiswifeand daughter. Thedaughter asks, “Mom, how many differentkinds of williesare there?” Themother smiles and says, “Well, dear, a man goes through three phases also. In his 20s, his willyis likean oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it’s like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it’s likea Christmas tree.” “A Christmas tree?” thedaughter asks. “Yes, dead from the root up and theballsare just for decoration.”
