A Fly in the Ointment....Not Exactly

I've recently begun to adopt the habit of taking crushed ice in a cup with me to work. I used to nibble on the ice in the car on the commute in, but now I've decided that I might as well eat the rest of it at my job.

I ate my ice this morning like I usually did. I would scoop up a spoonful of ice, slurp it up, and continue on with my typing or filling out paperwork or whatever. About halfway through the cupful, as I brought the spoon to my mouth I looked down at it, for some reason.

There was a bug on my spoon. I called another tech over and we both peered at it. "It's a FLEA!" she announced.
"I think it's just some kind of BUG!" I said.
"No, that's a flea for sure," she told me. "Want to go check it out under the microscope?"
Of course I did.

The little spot on my spoon (that was on its way to my mouth to be EATEN) was indeed a flea. He was cold, as he was nestled among my crushed ice. We marveled at his tiny eyes, his little flea legs, and the fine hairs along his body.

I wanted to gag. I almost ate a flea.

As we continued to alternately peek and shriek at this little creature, he suddenly moved. We both jumped back, for the magnification of the image caused the movement to scare us. Turns out he was all thawed out from the microscope light beaming up at him, and he did what all fleas do: Jump.

He was gone.

"I knew I should've put him in oil," I said. (Oil is used to prevent mites from walking off the slide before you can find them in all the debris.)

I still don't know where the flea came from, exactly, since my cup was not around any pets. But one thing is for sure: I will always look at my spoonful of ice before I eat it.