I don’t remember exactly what, but I was trying to get something out of my mom:

‘Mooooom, who’s your number one?’ – the question was rhetorical because I expected it to be me.

‘The cat.’

‘Really!? Stupid animal gets ahead just because he’s fluffy. Well, who’s your number two then?’

‘The coffee machine.’

‘Wait, so does that make ME number three!?’

‘No, the other coffee machine gets number three. You’re more like a number four and a half. You could become four if you pass me the remote, but then there’s nothing else you can do to rank higher.’