[Ivory]

Would You Ask?​

A family was gathered around the dinner table when the son, with a curious look on his face, turned to his father and asked, “Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there?”

The father, momentarily caught off guard, cleared his throat and thought for a moment. “Well, son, a woman goes through three phases in her life,” he began.
“In her 20s, her breasts are like melons—round and firm.
In her 30s and 40s, they’re more like pears—still lovely, but they hang a bit.
And after 50, well, they’re like onions.”

“Onions?” the son asked, looking perplexed.

“Yes,” the father said with a smirk. “Because when you see them, they might just bring tears to your eyes.”

This answer earned him icy glares from both his wife and daughter.

The daughter, clearly annoyed, turned to her mother with a mischievous grin. “Mom, how many kinds of willies are there?”

The mother, unfazed, smiled knowingly and said, “Well, sweetheart, men go through three phases, too.
In their 20s, their willy is like an oak tree—strong, sturdy, and hard.
In their 30s and 40s, it’s like a birch tree—still flexible and dependable.
And after 50, it’s like a Christmas tree.”

“A Christmas tree?” the daughter asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” the mother replied with a sly smile. “It’s dead from the root up, and the balls are just there for decoration.”