Twizzlers and Sthneeds

This just happened. 

Tryn walks up to me and sticks out her foot: Mom, I need the twizzlers. I have this thing in my foot.

I examine and go get said twizzlers (i.e. tweezers).

After trying for a minute or two with no success I pull out a needle.

Tryn, grabs her foot,: Oh, it doesn't hurt anymore.

Me: Just give me your foot.

Tryn: No, mommy, NO!

Absolutely refuses to give me her foot.

Me: Trynie, give me your foot.

Tryn, not kidding, reaching hysterics: No, NO, NO, NO, it's gonna hurt!!

This goes back and forth a few times. I am starting to realize that she is maybe truly terrified of the needle. 

Me: Tryn, I am not going to hurt you! It hurts you to have the sliver in right now, doesn't it?

Tryn: Are you gonna use that? The sthneed?

Me: WHAT?!

Tryn, pointing to the needle: That. The sthneed.

Instead of going for the obvious "WHAT?!" again I tried: Who told you it was called that?

Tryn, still with tears streaming down her face: You did, Mommy.

I refrain from sounding like a total moron by not saying "WHAT?!" again. Instead I start giggling really hard. I honestly have no idea where she heard that, but it sounds like a Dr. Seuss word or something.

Me: I really told you that? Are you sure you didn't have a dream about something like that?

Tryn: No, you told me.

And yes, the sliver is still there as we could not get it out with the twizzlers and really needed to avoid the hysterics of using the sthneed.