One August, many years ago, three little boys were born to three different families in a little town far away. The little boy born to the first family was named Thomas. Several days later, Richard was born to the second family. A few days after that, Henry was born to the third family.

Only parents and relatives tend to call their children by their full names, so it was no surprise that Thomas became Tom, Richard was called Dick, and Henry, who didn’t like his name at all, insisted upon being called Harry.

The three boys became the best of friends, and went everywhere together. Before long, no-one could imagine one boy without the others. Tom, Dick, and Harry were known to everyone in the little town where they lived.

As the boys grew up, they started to be interested in girls. They often dated together. Eventually, the boys grew up, finished school, got jobs and got married.

Tom and his wife were the first to start a family. A fine young boy was born to them, and he was named Richard, in honour of Dick, one of Tom’s friends. Not long after, Dick and his wife had a baby boy, and they named him Henry, after Harry the other friend. Eventually, Harry and his wife had a little boy, and they named him Thomas, after Tom the first of the three original friends. Now, there was a second generation of Tom, Dick, and Harry, because they too came to be called by their nicknames.

Years passed and suddenly there was another generation of Tom, Dick, and Harry. The second Tom, son of the original Harry, had a son and named him Dick. Dick, son of the original Tom, had a son and named him Harry. Harry, son of the original Dick, had a son and named him Tom. Now there was a third generation of Tom, Dick, and Harry.

Things got very confusing. In the small town where they all lived, it was not unusual for all three families to gather together at picnics and such, and if someone called out “Dick”, three heads would turn to see who was calling them. Which Dick did they want? Tom, Dick and Harry were not only the three original friends, but in each family the grandfather, father, and son were named either Tom, Dick, and Harry. Confused? So was everyone in the little town where they all lived.

Time passed. The third generation of boys grew up, got jobs, and got married. As usual, it was Tom and his wife who had a baby first. Everyone in the village just knew that it would be a boy again, and that, following the example of the previous three generations, he would be called Dick. There was much gossip in the town, about how much more complicated things were going to be with yet another generation of Tom, Dick, and Harry. Friends and family waited and waited, wondering.

Finally the day arrived. Tom’s wife was rushed to the hospital, and everyone knew the time was here. Nearly everyone gathered in the town square to wait for the news. Picnic tables had been set up in advance with every kind of food and drink. A band played to entertain the guests, and loudspeakers were set up so that the announcement could be made to everyone at once, as soon as the news came. The mayor was there, wearing her best dress and carrying her cell phone. Tom, who was at the hospital with his wife, had the phone number so he could call just as soon as the baby was born.

There was too much noise for anyone to hear the sound of the mayor’s cell phone ringing, but someone noticed her lifting it to her ear. As the word spread, a hush fell over the crowd. After a few moments, the mayor, with a wide smile on her lips, stepped up to the microphone.