Waiter, There's a Fly in My Soup

Almost two years ago Husband, Daughter, and myself were dining at a restaurant.

Daughter was having tomato soup, and suddenly a big old horse fly landed right in the middle of her soup.

Husband, who never kills anything except scorpions, and he kills them, because if he doesn't I will kill him, reached over with his spoon and pushed that fly down into the murky depths of that particular bowl of red sea, parting it briefly right down the middle.

Daughter and I were stunned. One, because this was opposite Husband's usual nature. And two, there was this big old horsefly, now neatly and completely dead, somewhere in her bowl of soup.

And I actually got to say, "Waiter, there's a fly in her soup."

Ha!

But since that time an extremely bizarre thing has occurred. At least twice a month some sort of insect winds up in Daughter's soup or drink.

At first it was only flies. But it has branched out to gnats, lady bugs, and those little fruit flies.

Is this some sort of insect revenge, put upon the wrong person because the bowl of soup lay on her placemat? Can there be a collective mind in the insect world, one which has made itself up to torture Daughter till the end of her miserable, bug fearing life?

Just moments ago I heard, "ARRGHHHH! I can't believe this!"

It was a fruit fly in her tea. 

And she had drunk almost the whole thing before she saw it.

Coincidence?

I think not.