Take a number

Sabina has been really sick yesterday.  She is better today, but still sitting in bed.  And drawing.  And she needs a sharpener for her pencil.  Well, we've just arrived at the farm and I am busy busy busy.  Busy lighting fire, busy unpacking the car, busy putting food in the fridge.  Busy.

"Mama, I need a sharpener", she pleads.

"Oh Sabina, take a number", I say jokingly.  She thinks about this for a moment, then says "so, what number am I?"

For a split second, I am stumped.

"Number 2", I recover.

But wait, it gets better.  A few minutes later, she needs something else.

"Mama, you need to colour in the spider.  What number am I this time?", she asks.

"Number 4", I respond.

"Ok, and who is number 3?", she quizzes.

"My coffee!"

At this point, I'm laughing, and add "Sabina, that's going straight to the blog".

"To where?", she looks at me puzzled.

"To the blog", I straighten up.

"Oh, is that where the santonym went?"