“Blow out the light,” they said, they said (She’d got to the very last page); “Blow out the light,” they said, they said, “It’s dreadfully wicked to read in bed”; Her eyes grew black and her face grew red And she blew in a terrible rage.
She put out the moon, she did, she did, So frightfully hard she blew, She put out the moon, she did, she did; Over the sky the darkness slid, The stars all scuttled away and hid — (A very wise thing to do).
But please don’t whisper the tale about, She’d get into trouble, she would; Please don’t whisper the tale about, If anyone else should ever find out She’d get into trouble without a doubt, And now she’s ever so good.
Moomin illustrations by Tove Jansson — no one has a temper quite like Little My!
orange marmalade 
“Blow out the light,” they said, they said
If anyone else should ever find out