Rainy Day Memory

Rainy Day Memory

Masking Tape, Mayhem, and the Genius

The day began badly… or at least that’s what I thought at first.

You see, on that particular rainy day, I found myself in the role of “Grandpa Daycare Director” for my grandson Dawson—a pint-sized whirlwind who was probably about five years old at the time.

And if you’ve ever been around a young’un for more than ten minutes, you already know the truth: kids can get bored quicker than a hummingbird can change direction. One minute they’re wide-open and happy; the next minute they’re sighin’ like the world has ended, lookin’ around for something—anything—to do.

Now, Dawson was already well on his way to earning a PhD in getting bored—honestly, no five-year-old could do it better. He loved bowling, but he also loved giving up on things about as quickly as he picked them up. And since outside play was off the table (thanks to a monsoon-level downpour), I was left facing a challenge: keep Dawson entertained with my less-than-stellar arsenal of toys, and absolutely no video games (because I’m old-school… or maybe just old).

Now, I could have panicked. I could have resorted to the “let’s watch the paint dry” Olympic event, but instead, inspiration struck.

As I surveyed my workspace, my gaze fell upon a mountain of masking tape left over from a recent painting project.

Suddenly, I had one of those “Einstein if he wore slippers” moments. “Come on, Dawson,” I declared with the authority of someone who’s about to reinvent fun. “I’ve got an idea!”

Dawson eyed me with suspicion—probably wondering if this would end in yet another lesson about the glory days of dial-up internet. “What are we going to do, Grandpa?” he asked, bracing himself for whatever ancient entertainment I was about to propose.

“You’ll see,” I said, grinning down at my curious, slightly skeptical sidekick.

Together, we rounded up all the masking tape and balled it up into something that could generously be called a “bowling ball”—if you squinted and used your imagination. I handed the tape orb to Dawson and led him to the recycling bin.

“Let’s count out ten plastic water bottles,” I suggested. Dawson set to work, but before he finished, he spun around, grinning like a possum who just found the world’s largest trash can.

“Pawpaw, you’re a genius!” he announced.

I’ll admit, I may have puffed up with pride—a five-year-old calling you a genius is basically the Nobel Prize of grandparenting. Armed with our tape ball and ten bottles, we marched to the garage and transformed the concrete floor into our very own bowling alley. The pins wobbled precariously, the ball veered wildly, and laughter echoed louder than any thunderstorm outside. It was, shockingly, a fantastic day. Not only did we create a game out of thin air (and household recycling), but we also spent some real quality time together—no batteries, screens, or emergency puppet shows needed.

Kids, as it turns out, are much sharper than we give them credit for. What might take adults an entire committee meeting to figure out, my five-year-old grandson grasped instantly.

He saw through boredom, embracing creativity, and reminded me that sometimes a little ingenuity (and a lot of masking tape) are all you need for a great adventure.

So, there you have it—a day that started out dreary and uninspired became a story for the family history books. All thanks to a rainy day, a roll of masking tape, and a grandson with a genius for fun.

What a rainy-day memory!

Takeaway: God often teaches us to redeem ordinary moments—turning a small day of faithfulness into a lasting reminder that our greatest ministry is to love, lead, and leave a godly legacy.

Scriptures: Ephesians 6:1–4; 2 Timothy 1:5; Proverbs 17:6

Contributor: LC Taylor, Sr. (USA)

Check out more illustrations from my book, "That Reminds Me... by Loyd C Taylor, Sr. Amazon