“Like,” he asks, “Like it’s really hot?”
Tell him yeah, dumbass, napalm feels hot.
“Jesus, read a book.”
“But like,” he asks, “Like your skin is falling off your body?”
With a deep sigh, open your laptop and bring up the Wikipedia page for the word “Napalm.”
“I’m going out to the bars,” tell him as you place the laptop on his lap. “Read this so I don’t have to answer any more questions when I get back. I’ll be too fucked up.”
When you get back at 4 am he’ll still be reading the wiki page.
“So yeah,” he’ll say. “Losing skin is part of it. But do you mean it like, I want you just to ravage me so hard until my clothes and skin are ripped to shreds?”
Murmur something non-committal as you pass out. He’ll move to pick you up and carry you to bed, but then he’ll look at the photo of Phan Thi Kim Phuc again and he won’t know what to do.
Tomorrow he’ll ask you if gloves will help.
Happy Tell Your Husband When He Touches You It Feels Like You’re Being Napalmed Day!
