She wailed dramatically, “I need a post!”
He walked out of the spare bedroom carrying the leg of a disassembled table and asked, “Here. Will this do? It’s as close as I could get on such short notice.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I adore you,” she said. “And someday I’m going to use a real door.”
He said, “Yes, well, before you get too carried away with that idea, you might notice that you now have your post.”
Since she’d declined the table leg and he’d already returned it to the spare room, she had no idea what he was talking about.