Last week I was driving my daughter [1] to what felt like her 500th dance class of the week, while simultaneously leaving a voicemail for a friend. "Hey, it's me," I said into the speaker. "Phone tag. You're it. Call me." Short and sweet. I ended the call, satisfied to have crossed something off my to-do list [2]. But then, from the backseat, I heard my kid start cracking up.

"Phone tag! Omigod, did you really just say phone tag?"

"Yeah, so?" I tilted the rear-view mirror so I could get a better look at the amusement on her face, because I had exactly zero clue as to what she found so funny. "Ugh, Mom! Phone tag is something old people say." Old people. My first thought: was she serious? And then, realizing she was: I'm old people.

We arrived at the studio a few seconds later, and it was all I could do not to kick her out of the car without even slowing down or stopping. (Just kidding.) But I did feel personally victimized by my own child, which is why I wish I'd had this Personally Victimized Candle [3] ($30) sitting on my dashboard at the time.

For one thing, it's really pretty. The soy wax has been hand poured and tinted pink, like Regina George [4] and the Plastics in their matching fuchsia miniskirts on a Wednesday. Plus, the candle's been injected with essential oils and smells like a Japanese cherry blossom tree. I've never actually smelled a Japanese cherry blossom tree, but it sounds pretty calming, especially when I'm contemplating banning my daughter from the car. It's also phthalate-free, so there's literally no reason to feel guilty burning it.

"If Zen were a fragrance, this would be it," reads the label. "Light this up and wind your ass down." Done and done. I mean, who among us hasn't been personally victimized by our own child?! Which is why I plan on scooping up, like, 10 of these babies to hand out to my mom friends to light up when we're ready to snap — because mom life be like that sometimes.