(If this is old, forgive me; I just received this from my niece, and thought it was funny enough to share)


A family is at the dinner table, when the son turns to his father and asks, "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, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit; and, after fifty they are like onions."

"Onions!?"

"Yes", says the father, "you see them and they make you cry."

This infuriated his wife and daughter, so the daughter said, "Mom, how many kinds of wee-wees are there?"

The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, "Well, dear, a man goes through three phases. In his twenties, his wee-wee is like an oak tree, mighty and hard; in his thirties and forties, it is a birch, flexible but reliable; and, after fifty, it is like a Christmas tree."

"A Christmas tree!?"

"Yes", said the mother, "dead from the root up, and the balls are for decoration only."