Hung Like A Trojan Horse

(Being fourteen, I go to a small K-12 school. Since we live in the country and the school is in a small town, there’s a healthy mix of farm kids, city kids, and rednecks. The boys in my class consider themselves to be more mature than they are and act as such. My dad loves making fun of them.)

Me: *random idea* “Why do they call them Trojan condoms? Troy was invaded, wasn’t it?”

Brother: “Nah, they held up pretty well for ten years before that.”

Dad: “Keep in mind, [My Name], ten years is the average timespan that a boy will carry around a condom before getting lucky.”

(Cue stunned silence and then maniacal cackling.)