Welcome to Appalachia
I was raking up little pinecones from the front yard when Dean came over smugly, having finished surveying his latest haul of driftwood from the river (currently draped over the front porch).
Dean: Say, maybe we should just LEAVE all that wood in the front - like an art exhibit?
Me: No, I think you should REMOVE all that wood as soon as possible, since there's hardly any room to move around on that porch by now!
Dean: (mildly) My, that was a very prompt and well-formulated answer!
Me: Yes, almost as if I'd been thinking it for quite a long time.
Later in the day;
Me (looking out the front window): Well, the front lawn sure looks better now that I've swept up all those pinecones and dead leaves.
Dean: Yes, I think the front of the house is pretty well finished now (ostentatiously avoiding my eye)
Me: (after missing a beat or two, to process this comment) What? No! You get that wood moved!
Dean: (looking out the window) Why, I can't see the wood for the trees! HAR HAR HAR HAR!!!
(Exit, pursued by a slow burn)