Chapter 2: Nightime ... June 30th 2011

I woke up the next morning knowing that I was going to be able to convince mom to go with me. I was absolutely certain of it. Mind you I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I'd woken early and I left the house before mom had gotten up. And stayed away all day. I wanted her to stew a bit before I gave her my 'nude beach' sales spiel.

I bought two wigs that day. Some body paint. Some weird sunglasses – a man's pair and a woman's. A wide brimmed hat. A beard. Fake moustaches. More than enough stuff to disguise two nude bike riders. To disguise a mother and her son.

It was just after eleven at night when I finally got home. I'd been in my room for only about five minutes before mom appeared in my doorway. She found me sitting at my desk facing my computer. All I had on were a pair of boxer shorts. I'd been waiting for her. I'd already started up my laptop and opened the home page of the Onancock Nudist Society.

Mom didn't knock before entering my room. "I want to talk to you," she imperially directed as she marched through the door that I'd purposely left open. When I looked up I couldn't miss the fire in her eyes. She'd clearly been saving it up all day. She didn't even noticed my state of undress.

"Good," I said amiably, "I'll need your help." I knew I had to get her on the defensive right away.

"For what?" she snapped.

"My disguise."

"You are not going anywhere this weekend young man!"

I didn't answer her. Instead I stood up and then grabbed the wig I'd chosen for myself from the desk top. She said nothing as I plopped it haphazardly on my head. I put on the shades. "Help me with the moustache," I invited as I geld out the big drooping moustache out to her.

"You look stupid. The wig isn't even straight," she admonished even as she reached out her hands to adjust the wig.

"The moustache is sticky on the back, you have to--"

"I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to put a party moustache on young man," she said sarcastically. And then she did just that. I stepped back from mom the second I was 'moustached'. "Ta da!" I said as I gave her a muscle builder pose. Mom laughed. Which was good.

A second later I was in front of the wall mirror. "I told you, no one would recognise me in a million years."

"I would," mom answered.

"Here, take my picture," I near ordered as I grabbed my camera from my desk. Two minutes later I'd downloaded the picture she'd taken onto my laptop. The guy staring back at me from the screen could have been anybody! "And remember, I'll have paint on my face ... and on my chest ... and on my..."