Ever played 'deal or no deal' over buying a pair of pants?

The days are getting shorter. The nights are getting cooler.

That can mean just one thing: School starts in about two weeks. Less, if your kid's heading to college.

In preparation, my daughter - did I mention she's a college freshman? - and I made a one-day pilgrimage to Williamsburg last week.

The outlets were calling.

Eleven hours after we left home, my European clown car was stuffed with bags o' bargains. The purse-size trunk and the back seat. The two of us were hot, sweaty and hungry.

We'd accomplished what we set out to do: bought enough stuff to get to Thanksgiving and beyond.

Perhaps you're getting ready to do the same. Be warned: Outlets are not for amateurs.

It's commando shopping for those who don't need the niceties of food, gourmet coffee shops or shade. It's not about ambiance in outlet-land. It's all about the deals.

We vowed to stay sane in the presence of deep discounts, clearance sales and name brands.

No need to buy Polo shirts in every color, we agreed.

And those fancy purses that sound like they were named after the cheapest way to fly aren't an absolute necessity, either.

Still, low prices can mess with your critical thinking skills. Which is how I came to be standing at the checkout holding a pair of sand-paper pants.

We were in one of the hippest stores. Casual clothes, yet classy. Very expensive everywhere else, not so bad at the outlet.

After a 30-minute whirlwind through the shop, my kid headed for the dressing room with her arms full of clothes while I looked around for a place to sit. Like a husband.

"Mom, look," she called, holding up a pair of navy blue cropped pants. "These look like you. And they're only $6.99!"

She was right. They did look like me. Short, shapeless and not very stylish.

I trailed her into the dressing room and found my own cubicle.

That's where I learned why these half-a-pants seemed cheaper than everything else in the store.

They felt like they were made of horsehair. Common sense should have told me to take them off.

"Come, out," my kid urged. "Let me see."

I padded out of the dressing room barefoot, trying not to rub my legs together.

"Cute," she said.

"I dunno, " I muttered. "Feel the material. It's scratchy."

"'Mom, they're $6.99," she sighed. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'd like pants that didn't feel like they'd rub my skin off."

"Six ninety-nine," she repeated, rolling her eyes. "They'll get softer when you wash them."

I returned to the mirror. They looked OK. They were lightweight, perfect for what's left of summer.

I took them off and squinted at the label.

Linen and cotton, it said. No cactus.

"Six ninety-nine," my daughter reminded me.

The cashier began ringing up our purchases. She reached for the prickly pants the same moment I did.

There was a brief tug of war.

"I'm not taking these," I said.

"You sure?" she asked sweetly. "They're only six ninety-nine."

Kerry Dougherty, (757) 446-2306, kerry.dougherty@cox.net