Okay just an idea that popped into my head and now I'm obsessed…
November 2nd 1925
The twins were born today. Poor Richard, dancing around, trying to figure out what to do. But Minerva was born and Richard held her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world-which at that point, she was- but then Megan was born and Richard was trying to balance them both in his arms. Finally he put them down beside me and I started crying. This is the last time I will write in the journal. It has carried me through the hard years, but now it will be passed on. Eleven years it shall sit on the dusty attic shelves, until Minerva gets it on her first day. She is the eldest daughter. It doesn't seem quite fair to Megan, but those were the rules. Minerva, when you read this, these are the ancient rules of The Journal.
The Rules
1) You must write. Everything of importance that happens to you.
2) The journal is passed to your eldest daughter, no exceptions.
3) Never tell others, excepting your eldest daughter, of the journal
The journal started in 43 B.C. with your great-great-great, I don't know how many greats, grandmother. Over the centuries stories have been written. Stories of our families past. And you shall continue the tradition my dear. Oh, and dear? If you're having boy trouble, don't turn to your great-great-great-great-great grandmother. She got the book in 1785. Her advice was to…what was it…ask your father if he thought the match was acceptable and um…offer your dowry and hand in marriage courteously at the Governor's Ball. But do read your family history…especially grandma…she had some wild days.
So this is your journal… remember, you're not to have boy trouble until your sixteen….