My Sister's Garden Finally Got a Big Gulp

I'm visiting my mom for a few days in Indiana. This evening my sister came over and made dinner. An Asian-y chicken over rice, with a side dish of apple salad. I can't gag down anything with mayo in it, so as is our family ritual, when my sister offered me some apple salad and I politely refused, saying (for the billionth time to my mom and sister) "I don't like mayonnaise," it was concluded that I am an asshole. Yet, as is also the family ritual, they are NOT assholes if they don't like foods like I like (shrimp, crab, Spicy Nacho Doritos, etc.). After we ate (and argued about how taste is a personal thing and there is no right or wrong ((my opinion)) and which one of us was simply wrong about their personal taste ((their opinion)) we went out to the front porch and sat in Mom's glider for an hour. It eventually got around to raining and my sister was thrilled for her garden. So am I, since I glom onto her gardening skills and eat her home-grown tomatoes and corn all summer. We were squeezed into that glider and made dumb jokes and commented on the birds and watched it rain and then watched it stop.