Why the kids don't want me to have nice things

Actually, I have no idea why the kids don't want me to have nice things but it's obvious to me that they don't. The kids hate my nice things. They will go to any lengths necessary to rid the house of them. The four children will work as a team and systematically destroy anything beautiful or shiny in their path.
If I have a new shirt that is pretty and cost more than $5 on sale at Target, the babies will puke/spill/poop on it (I know, I know, they're babies and it's as much my fault as theirs....just let me vent here). If we get a new coffee table, E will spill nail polish remover on it. If we get a fancy new refrigerator made of shiny stainless steel, L will dent it when swinging a wooden sword around the kitchen. If I leave my lovely watch on the counter, a teenaged child will play with it, remove one link (rendering it too small for me and worthless), lose the link and place it back on the counter for me to find and try to put on. When asked about who is responsible for the coffee table, fridge or watch, their eyes will go wide and confused. "Who would do such a thing? ME? Never! Only a monster would ruin your watch/refrigerator/coffee table" Later, when we are leaving the kids home alone, reminders not to swing a sword in the house or do nails in the living room will be met with heavy sighs, shaking heads and exasperated, "OKs". The older kids are very effective at communicating confused frustration (without actually calling us stupid and thus getting grounded) that we would find it necessary to remind them to behave. They look at us with eyes that say, "Yeah...I know not to swing swords in the kitchen...duh...I'm not stupid." Of course explaining that I KNOW they spent their last time home alone flinging bits of toilet paper soaked in nail polish remover around the living room and I KNOW they'll be swinging wooden swords around the kitchen before we're even out of the driveway, only makes me look paranoid and then I get the looks that say, "It's so sad that you don't trust me when I've been nothing but totally responsible when left home alone in the past. I feel both wronged and sorry for you."
It's enough to make me want to go into their rooms, grab a favorite item, and break it or set it on fire. I haven't done that, I won't do that, because as this blog clearly demonstrates, I'm a grown up. *foot stomp/crossed arms*