Baby Powder and Ocean State Job Lot

What in the world does Ocean State Job Lot have to do with Baby Powder you ask?

First off, thanks for asking.  The story goes like this:  

Put Miss Una down at her usual time of about 8pm.  Simple enough.  Change her diaper, cave on the request for "powder", and then place the "powder" on her changing table.  Read to her, sing to her, turn on the lullaby CD, and remind her to stay in her bed (she recently graduated to a "big girl" bed).  Head downstairs for some mindless TV (oh and the sound of the lullabies through the monitor).  20 minutes later and the monitor is quiet as the CD has ended.  Not a peep.  She's asleep.  

Not so fast.  

10pm rolls around and Sally heads upstairs while I do my usual of turning lights off,  set the coffee maker up, etc.  I usually hear Sally checking on Una, but things are different tonight.  Suddenly, Sally calls out, "Daddy, can you come up here?"  I would normally be concerned, but  the use of "Daddy" instead of John makes me think things are not too urgent.  I nevertheless quickly head upstairs.  Sally stops me outside of Una's room and says, "Smell anything?"  [sniff sniff]  Ah...The sweet fragrant smell of...you guess it...baby powder.  

There in the middle of her room in the center of her carpet is a 1 foot in diameter pile of baby powder with the bottle laying along side the circle.  My first thought was she broke the top and it all spilled out.  NOPE.  She shook the entire contents out.  (Note:  Baby powder being shaken form its bottle does not make any noise!!!)

Sally and I controlled our desire to bust out laughing and proceeded to tell Una that what she did was very naughty.   She looked at us in amazement.  Sally retrieved the vacuum cleaner to clean things up and while she did I talked with Miss Una.  "Why did you do that?" "I know" (Una has a tendency to drop the "don't" when stalling).  "Well, now we don't have any for your bum.  What are we going to do?" I lost it when the response was:

"We can get some more from Job Lot"