Child oh child

Who me?
Trying to keep myself from strangling a wee child who is extraordinarily curious about every goddamn thing I own.
No, it's not that big a problem, but he just rearranged all the magnets on fridge, played with my collection of vintage wooden toys and dropped a pinocchio on his nose, slathered my Japanese flute with saliva, rolled around a wooden elephant, made a beeline for a lovely Toledo sword, pulled my cat's ears until the poor thing ran the heck away, opened up a stuffed animal that is actually a repository of recycled plastic bags, tried to scrub the kitchen sink with palm scrub brush, tied a string around all my hot wheels' and played around the house until the floors looked like a pixie town traffic jam, made a rail road out of Jenga pieces, tried watering all my indoor plants and twisted the ratchet lever of my music boxes with a frenzy to produce the most god awful sounds until finally I asked him to get a bit of outdoor exercise by way of cycling for a while.
Of course all the mess thus created was dutifully cleaned by him and for that I'm mighty pleased because everything aside he's a most well behaved child who is naughty in a way that children are and should be and curious too especially since everything about this house feels and looks so different and strange to him but even so it's annoyingly to me because I don't like my things touched and manhandled and children do not understand these things, do they?