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prorevenge · 4 years

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Dung Log to the rescue: a tale of two neighbors

I live in an apartment complex in a fairly busy city. We pay a solid chunk of money to live in an apartment that is dog friendly, close enough to our university, and big enough to house a dog and my roommates two cats.

Now, I’m a fairly laissez-faire neighbor. I don’t bother you, you don’t bother me. We’re friendly enough that I know your name. I’ve never called my management on another tenant. I’d much prefer to talk to other tenants and make sure we talk it out. I’ve asked others not to smoke weed in front of my patio, to not play music loud enough under me that I hear it through my headphones as I try to work, and it’s all ended up fairly amicably. No issues. Until this woman in apartment, let’s call it 3V, while I was in apartment 1F.

My dog is small, 10-11 lbs. when I take her out, I always clean up after her, and we’ve never had any complaints.

3V comes knocking on the door, and is on the phone when I open. She was calling management to tell them my dog left poop outside the door. I’m a bit confused and I asked her what she was talking about to which she replied that as the only dog owner in this one building of the apartment complex (there are about 7 buildings all connected by the gated garden) my dog must have pooped outside the front door. I assured her that it wasn’t my dog, but I would be glad to pick up whosever dog poop that was. She hangs up on management. I go downstairs and there’s a massive dog poop piece. And I just stare at it, stare at my tiny yapper, and I’m like, whatever. Better to just calm her down and pick it up.

Things progress with no further confrontations until I come back in from taking my dog out in the morning to a sign that says “I SAW YOUR DOG POOP, I TOOK PICTURES AND IM SENDING THEM TO MANAGEMENT”. I’m so confused. It’s 8am, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet, I’m wearing a bright yellow bathrobe whose belt I lost and I have to hold it together with one hand. But this woman is convinced she caught my dog in the act. So I go to her door, knock, and she shows me pictures of... some random dog poop in the grass of the shared garden. I promise her that’s not mine, offer to pick it up, and say that we can access the managements security cameras if that would be enough to prove my dog’s innocence. She tells me to pick it up and closes the door in my face. I get an email from management giving me a warning.

A few months go by without confrontation. Her children come and ask to borrow my laundry cards on occasion and I’m happy to let them. It’s not their fault their mom is a bit insane. I’m also very nervous because I’m a college student. I can’t afford to lose this housing that we got lucky to find. I go to visit my family, taking my dog, in Europe (where my family lives). A few days later, I get a call from management at 2am my time telling me that there is a report that my dog peed in the lobby of our building. Now I’m getting a bit pissed. I’m not in the country. My dog is not in the country. And this woman is trying to blame what must have been a drink spill or water (since it was winter) on my dog. I call back and tell them exactly that, and they reply in a tired tone that since I was the only dog owner in that building, there was no one else to blame. I explain I’m out of the country, that I can send them my tickets, that they have no idea it was urine and offer when I get back to keep track of all of my dog’s ins and outs. They drop it and tell me that if they get another complaint, they’ll have to move to more serious repercussions. I’m scared, pissed, and really pissed.

I start keeping a daily diary with time stamps and pictures of my dog’s comings and going’s, the Dung Log. I’m very, very careful. I pick up other dog’s poop when I see it. I really don’t want to get evicted for something that wasn’t my fault. My sister comes to stay with us for the first part of COVID, and we give the dog a summer groom. A tiny dog, she didn’t produce much fur, but my sister was unaware of the neighbor and chose to put the fur outside on the patio and expected the wind to whisk it away. Then the door starts banging, and I go to check and Lo and behold, it is 3V. She’s telling me that I have to clean up the dog fur, I apologize and tell her that it was an accident. She tells me that she has a cat who will get upset if she comes back up the stairs smelling of dog. I’m a bit dumbfounded that this is her logic, but apologize and sweep the fur away.

The last straw. The straw the broke the camels back. The tip of the mother fucking cherry on top.

Reminder that I keep a detailed report of my dog’s ins and outs. I was going on a birthday celebratory hike a few hours out with my girlfriend for her COVID birthday. We needed to drive there nice and early, the hike was 6 hours total, and the drive was 2, so we were ready and getting the car from a leasing agency. Not a few minutes in, I get a panicked call from my roommate. I hear yelling on the other side and my roommate gets across to me that 3V is screaming at them about a smear of dog poop in the lobby that was clearly my dog. At this same time, my roommate was alone at home, a small college aged person talking very calmly to a older woman screaming in their face with their child next to them, just staring at the floor. I’m speechless. I can’t leave my roommate, so my girlfriend and I cancel our plans ON HER BIRTHDAY, and go back to help. By the time we come back, 3V is gone, but the cops have just left, because 3V called the cops on my gender fluid, 5’4” POC roommate because 3V claimed my roommate was harassing her. I was enraged. I called management and they told me that they’re putting a warning on our account and expect us out after our lease ends.

Not today, management. I biked my ass over with my roommate to the leasing offices and sat down with them. Before I left, I got our other neighbor’s accounts that 3V was screaming at my roommate, I took a picture of the “smear of dog poop” which resembled a wheel squeak on the ground (as two people were moving in to our building), and came armed with my poop diary (that I affectionately nicknamed the Dung Log). I showed them my evidence, backed with neighbors statements and they seemed shocked. To be fair, I had never complained back against this woman who that morning had called my roommate delusional, a bitch, and said that she pays too much to walk on shit floors. Like we didn’t pay the same amount. After running through it all, management took all the warnings off our account, put a warning on hers and told her if she bothers us again they would evict her, and even comped us some things.

I haven’t heard from 3V again, but the Dung Log lives on in infamy. Log may it reign.

(source) story by (/u/XtinaChaos)

#prorevenge #by /u/XtinaChaos #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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rayalez · 7 years

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Notes for the Leader — II

click here for Notes for the Leader — I

He looks peaceful, as one should when dead. I noticed a slight smile on his face when I went up to the casket to pay my respects. The dreadful wail of the widow fills the funeral hall behind us. We’ve all taken to drink, passing around a flask, well out of view of the widow and the family.

“This is fine whiskey,” say Colonel Kim.

“Thank you. It is not American,” I reply.

“Where’d you get it?”

“From that Chinese guy on People’s Struggle Road.”

“He’s very good at smuggling in American liquor,” says Kim.

“He is.” I reply, raising the flask in toast and taking a gulp.

“Poor Min,” I say. I pass him the empty flask, shaking it to show him I’ve just finished off the last drop. “As lowest ranking officer, you miss out on the booze but have to carry the flask.”

Min calls us a bunch of assholes.

“I heard he was found in a whorehouse,” says Colonel Kim, probably a bit too loud.

“Yes, he was. However, truthfully, he died working diligently at his desk,” says a lieutenant.

“If he died at his desk, why was he found at a whorehouse?” asks Min.

“Remember, officially it was not a whorehouse,” I tell Min.

“Min,” says Colonel Kim, “common sense would say that if you die at your desk then you are probably going to be found at your desk. We are not dealing with common sense. We are dealing with the truth.”

“What was the cause?” asks a Lieutenant with a crooked nose and thinning hair.

“Truthfully? A heart attack. Judging from the man’s girth, I’m inclined to believe that truth too,” says Kim.

The widow lets out another wail in the background and we turn our heads slightly aback for a second.

“I heard it was the whorehouse on People’s Road,” says another colonel.

“Officially that whorehouse has been shut down by our compatriots, the municipal authorities. In all honesty, however, I think you’re right.” I say.

“You know, he was a pretty good looking officer when I first knew him, before he packed on the weight. It was only in the last few years that he had to resort to the whorehouse,” Kim says.

“Who will be taking his position?” asks Min.

“Perhaps you, my buttercup. How would you like to run our Strategic National Electronic Espionage Unit?”

“I have no experience in computers or coding,” Min replies in a deadpan fashion.

“Judging from the former head of the unit, who now lies in that casket, I don’t think that is a qualification for the job,” says Kim, missing Min’s sarcasm. I look over at the casket, keeping my eyes fixed on the large banner depicting the Leader’s face that’s hanging above the dead man’s body.

“So you knew him when he was younger?” I ask. “What kind of man was he?”

“He was ambitious, but somewhat dim.”

“Was he a good man or bad man?” I ask.

“We are at his state-sponsored funeral. The banner of the Leader hangs above him. Officially, he was a good man,” says Kim.

Another piercing wail from the widow.

“Is that wailing because she’ll actually miss having a 300 lb. manatee trying to mount her or because she now gets evicted from general’s housing? Sorry if I’ve just caused you all to picture a preying mantis mounting a pile of playdough” Kim muses.

“I think she’ll be okay financially, if he did his duty and squirreled away some money. He was a member of the Showshin Group so he should have had a lot,” I say.

“What’s the Showshin Group?” Min asks.

“You’ve heard of Showshin,” Kim interjects. “The most accomplished protégé of the Grandfather’s favorite painter, Chouen. Years ago a group of high-ranking government officers and generals got together and created Showshin,”

“What do you mean? Showshin is a real person. I’ve seen his paintings,” Min replies.

“You’ve seen paintings that are called Showshin paintings. You haven’t seen Showshin’s actual paintings because Showshin wasn’t a real person.”

Min stares at Kim.

“He was created,” Kim continues. “This cadre wanted some extra cash. Chouen’s paintings were so expensive and profitable that they decided to just make up a guy, slap a name on him and say he was Chouen’s protégé to give him the necessary pedigree. Of course, they claimed he had been killed fighting counter-revolutionaries in the great steppe. That accomplished two goals. First, dead artists always fetch more. Second, they wouldn’t have to worry about getting some actor to pretend he was the artist.”

“I don’t believe you,” Min says matter of factly. He’s been egged on by Kim one too many times.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true — well, not officially of course.”

“It is true, Min,” I chime in. “Kim’s not just being an asshole, like usual. These guys created their own market and made thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars. All it took was for this group of guys to start pretending to clamor for these supposed masterpieces and the suckers joined in.”

“But what about the paintings of Showshin?” asks Min.

“They had some guy make some paintings. Tell me, do you like Showshin’s paintings?” Kim asks

“He’s my favorite painter if I had to name one from our country.” Min says.

“What about Showshin’s paintings is so great?” Kim continue.

“I like his style. He’s famous. He has a….”

“There it is!” Kim shouts. Others glare at him and he quickly lowers his voice to a whisper. “There it is. That word — famous. You like him because he’s famous. If he was some guy who painted out of his alleyway and you stopped by one day, you wouldn’t think those paintings were fantastic. You’d think they were mediocre. But people tell you the paintings are great, so you think they are great. And therefore, you pay a lot of money for them — well, you do if you are a member of the Leader’s family or some corrupt businessman and not some underpaid sergeant in the military.”

Kim continues. “It’s basically printing your own money if you are a member of the Showshin group. You have some anonymous guy paint something for you and you put it up at auction. If some previously undiscovered Showshin just happens to show up on the market one day, they have a ‘group’ of experts declare it as authentic but only if the owner is a member of the Showshin group. Anyone else and they declare it a fake.”

“How the hell do you know this?” Kim asks.

“My well-connected uncle once bought a Showshin. It cost him a fortune.”

“Did the group tell him the secret after he bought it?” Min asks.

“No, he learned the secret the hard way,” Kim says, fussing with his shirt collar. “He had a falling out with some higher-ups. Turns out one of them was a member of the Showshin group.” Kim says. “How did he find that out?”

“The day after the fight, his painting was declared a fake.”

I chuckle, gazing up at the store window advertising a sale on notebooks. Walking inside, I am greeted by a young female storekeeper who bows deferentially at the patron dressed in full military uniform. I peer down and see a three-foot tall, life-size Eschuan, an elfen-like rabbit creature that’s been manufactured to serve as the symbol and inspiration of the People’s Struggle for children. It grins back at me, an axe in one hand and a hoe in another. An older man, probably her father or grandfather, makes his way from the back of the store and gives me a polite smile. I feel bad intruding on people like this. The uniform causes trepidation, though everyone tries their best not to display it, and I feel guilty. I feel guilty because they kiss your ass and they especially kiss my ass because I’m nicer to them than most high-ranking officers. This always catches them off-guard. Soon the fear melts off their faces and the confusion they experience, mixed with the unexpected relief, molds into an almost ecstatic gratitude reflected in their eyes. But I don’t know if I act the way I do to them because that’s who I am or because I selfishly want to see that gratitude. I am either a good person or a truly awful person. And if I do not know which I am, I am certainly the latter, I think, remembering what Sun had said.

“Hello, Most Honored Fighter,” the old man says, using the mandated term of endearment for high-ranking military officers. “May I help you find something?”

“Hello, my esteemed compatriot and worker. I see you have been advertising for paper supplies.” Here, I could easily say I want a notebook, but I wait, extending the conversation.

“Yes, Most Honored Fighter, we are. Do you require some paper supplies?”

“Yes, I may. Is business good?” I look around, noticing the entire aisle devoted to Leader merchandise: scented candles imprinted with the face of the Leader, Leader action figures, Leader books and good luck charms, Leader-recommended medicines and topical ointments.

“It is. Each day we are constantly striving to improve the People’s betterment, true to the Leader’s behest.” The last line is delivered in a textbook manner.

“You do not need to speak that way with me, friend.”

He looks confused at me. “Sorry, Most Honored Fighter. I will do better.”

“No, you don’t understand. No need for robotics. I am a boy from farm country. I know normal speak, esteemed compatriot and worker.”

“Normal?” The man looks at me, a bit off put. I start to get annoyed. He’s either sincere in his beliefs or too cowardly to let down his guard. I don’t know which is worse.

“Forget it. Please lead me to your paper supplies. I need a notebook.”

“They are in this aisle. Do you require any special kind?”

“Something small enough to fit in my back pocket,” I reply.

“Of course. Take a look at these,” he says, handing me several leather bound notepads. As I look over the selection, I feel his eyes on my face. I look up from the stack and see him avert his gaze.

“Are you on duty today, Most Honored Fighter?” he asks, almost in a hushed tone. I look at him and sense that he’s smelled the whiskey on my breath.

“Why do you need to know that, citizen?” I ask, switching to a standard form of address for the commoners.

“You have such an important job. I figure there’d be no way you’d have time to honor our little store with your patronage on a day you must devote your energy to protecting the Leader’s land.” A subtle chide at me for being drunk on the job. This is, according to true believers, not patriotic behavior and we must always — always — evince patriotic behavior. It rankles me that he would risk upsetting a high-ranking official for the sake of such blind, stupid devotion. My presence, right here and now on this man’s floor, captivating his entire view, his entire mental processes; these illustrious medals, shining and glimmering on my chest before his eyes; my odor, the smell of liquor and well shined shoes and hair gel and cigarettes welling up in his nostrils; my side arm, loaded and black, uncaring and ready to kill; all my supposed raw power: they have all been trumped by some ethereal propaganda, some false truth that’s never seen but always there.

“My energy is never not devoted to protecting the Leader’s land, even on my off days,” I say sternly.

“Of course,” he says, staring blankly at my chest. I see the young woman in the back begin sweeping the floor.

“Tell me, citizen, have you served in our Eternal Struggle,” I say, referring to combat.

“During the Epic Conflict, I was racked with tuberculosis, unfortunately. I did everything I could, helping to fashion clothes and armaments in my bed.”

The man reminds me of my grandfather and I long to hug him.

“So you have no risked your life for our Most Glorious People?” I say, disdainfully.

“Not as you have,” he says. I notice the young woman has been sweeping the same spot behind the counter for ages.

The old man looks up at me meekly and I want to cry. I peer at his shoes, torn and soiled. His sweatshirt has the stains of a man who has worked long hours for very little. His pants sag from his waist. An old belt musters its might to keep them up, cinched tighter than it was ever intended.

“You seem like you come from the countryside.”

“Yes, I do. Five miles from Ancestral Mountain.”

“Very auspicious. How’d you make your way into the city?”

“My wife died and I thought I could help in the struggle more if I was here.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure she was a good person. How did she die?”

“Old age.” By this, he means either starvation or disease.

“Well, I am sorry. Is that your daughter?” I smile and give a nod. The young woman keeps her eyes on the floor.

“No, my granddaughter.”

“What did you raise in the country?”

“Goats and chickens mostly, and then I was recruited to work as a school teacher.”

“You must have been very smart, and very busy. Most of the rural school teachers also worked for the Rural People’s Re-education Program.”

“I would have been happy to serve the Leader wherever, but the fatherland saw fit that I just serve as school teacher.”

“I’m sure that’s true.” I know it is not. “My father worked for the Rural People’s Re-education Program,” I tell him.

The old man begins straightening boxes and cans, lining them up so they just touch the edge of the shelf in front of him.

“He would’ve been your age, I suspect,” I continue. “He said it was hard work. He said in those days there was lots of necessary re-education. There were many rats skittering in and out of the farm fields back then. Rats from across the border. Many traps had to be set. It was very hard.”

“I’m sure you are very honored by his service for such a just cause, but perhaps we should not speak about his noble efforts. It is better not to throw a rock at the tail of a passing tiger. That is what the Just and Kind Grandfather once said.”

“But hasn’t the Leader said, ‘When sailing down the River of Glory, keep one eye looking ahead and one eye looking behind. For someday the journey might take us back upstream, and it will helpful to remember the location of the rocks we first passed.”

“You may be right, Most Honorable Fighter.”

“Who are we to believe then — the Leader or the Grandfather?”

“We believe them both.”

“But, if they are irreconcilable?”

“These are not questions to be asked,” he muffles.

“How many surviving children do you have, my friend?”

“I do not have any. I once had three.”

“I am sorry to hear that. The three children — were their deaths prescribed or was it the natural order?”

“Two had their deaths prescribed. One died by natural means.”

“I am very sorry for your loss.”

“Death is natural, but thank you,” he says.

“But prescribed death is most unnatural.”

“Death prescribed by the Leader is more natural than any kind of death.”

“Except death by actual nature, I suppose?” I ask, pulling out a cigarette and twirling it unlit in my fingers.

“No, even more natural than that,” the old man responds.

“And how do you figure?”

“The Leader is Father of All. If he prescribes it, it is done by nature.”

“And he is good — isn’t he?”

“Without any doubt he is.”

“I’m sorry for all the questions,” I say. “I have no doubt this is a difficult topic for you, though you certainly don’t show it. Tell me, friend, does it ever bother you that some of us are born naturally good and some are born naturally bad?”

“No, I suppose that is the way of things.”

“But, there’s consequences for being bad isn’t there? The Leader says that before we are born the spirits of the afterlife have already foreseen our entire lives. And when they are molding us, they know how deep or shallow our every breath will be, how far we will walk with our first steps, how many times our heart will beat during our first kiss. They know if we will be good or bad. They know who will ascend into the Ultimate Glory, and they know who will descend into the depths of the great suffering for eternity.”

“The spirits of the afterlife are all knowing and good. Of course they know all this.”

“Ah, you say they are good, and that’s what we are taught, isn’t it?” I ask, raising my voice. “If they are so good, so benevolent, and if they are all knowing — able to predict the future — why then do they make bad people?”

The man stares at me.

“It’s cruel, can’t you see? In their very hands, they possess clay and they shape it and mold it and this entire time, while their hands are still moist and sticky with the residue of our eventual existence, they know if what they are molding is good or bad. If they sense it will be a bad person, they know it is doomed to suffer an eternity of hellfire. Then, I ask, why make such a pitiful creature, knowing full well its awful fate? Why, if they are so good, do they make something only to have it suffer for the rest of the ages? Is that not the cruelest thing that can be meted on a being?”

“I wish I knew the answer. I am just a simple shop keep.”

“I hardly doubt that is true. Your granddaughter — where will she be going to university?”

“The Great Father’s University of Science,” he says, quickly looking up at me. He realizes he’s made a mistake.

“Oh, the University of Science. Very prestigious. I’m very happy for you,” I say looking over the shoulder of the old man at the young girl. She gives a faint smile and keeps sweeping.

“It is very difficult to get into the University of Science. One needs to be close to the Leader’s heart, as they say. I am happy the Leader, in his righteousness and wisdom, has decided to open such doors to us, the rural peasantry. Of course, he has always been very generous to those who do such nasty work on the People’s behalf.” The old man looks at me at first uncomfortably, but then his expression changes and for the first time I see it in his eyes, that cold, dark, calculating expression. It is the look he must have given hundreds, if not thousands, of times in the fields. The subtle winds pushing the tops of the wheat where he stands resolutely. Women cowering and screaming for mercy before him, clutching their babies while houses burn in the distance. His pants are tattered and he is holding an AK-47 and he points it at the object pleading at his feet.

“Was it all worth it?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“Did they all deserve to die? Even the children?”

“Truthfully, yes.” He stares at me.

“Let us have tea in the backroom,” he says after a moment’s pause, his voice quivering for the first time.

“Yes, lead me to your backroom. I need to show you something,” I say.

I rest my hand on his shoulder and hear a scream.

“Good lord, will she ever stop with the wailing?” Kim asks, as I keep my hand resting on him. The casket is being lowered into the ground as dozens stand grazing about.

“Maybe she will calm down once he’s out of sight,” Min whispers, replying to Kim.

“Let us hope so. The People’s Struggle was never meant to be easy, the Leader tells us, but there’s only so much one man can endure.”

“You’re just pissy that we’re out of scotch,” I tell him.

The National Anthem starts to play and we bow our heads. I pass the time by looking at the shoes surrounding me. Most are military, black and well-polished. Some of the women wear dress shoes and heels. A few of the men in civilian suits — the political class — get away with brown leather. As the anthem reaches climax a pair of high heels steps right in front me, toes pointing toward me. I look up and see Mari.

“I mean this in the most sincere way. You have always been good at fucking,” I tell her.

“Thank you,” she says, unstradling me and making her way towards the bathroom. I stare at her as she walks, her gymnast body fluttering around the bed, looking almost like a ghostly apparition in the darkened room.

Notes for the Leader — II was originally published in Fiction Hub on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

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david4560-blog · 6 years

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The Best Toddlers Beds

Best Toddlers Beds

Welcome to toddlerhood! It officially starts at baby’s first birthday, but few parents have the courage to replace the crib with a toddler bed that early. There’s no need to, anyway. Your child may be pulling himself up with help from the rails, but he’s perfectly secure in the sleep space he’s always known—for now. In the months that follow, though, he may suddenly be on the verge of breaking out of it like a little ninja. This (among many other signs) is reason to start thinking about toddler beds. Read on to learn more about getting the timing right, what to consider before you buy and our picks for the best toddler beds.

When Should Kids Transition into Toddler Beds?

There’s no hard-and-fast rule as to when to switch to toddler beds, but most families are ready anywhere between 18 months and age 4. To figure out if the time is right for you to shop for toddler beds, ask yourself:

• Do you have an escape artist? If she keeps launching herself out of the crib, a toddler bed could keep her from hurting herself.

• Is a new baby on the way? Many kids get evicted from the crib when it’s needed for a sibling. It’s okay. Spin it as a fun step to becoming a big kid.

• Does your toddler share a bedroom with an older sibling? If your toddler is your youngest and you’ve got a bigger kid who’s ready to sleep in a top bunk, it might be a good time to think about toddler bunk beds and free up some space.

• Is your toddler an early riser? And you’re craving more sleep? If you have a gate across the bedroom door and a totally childproofed nursery, your toddler may enjoy the freedom of entertaining himself for a little while before he demands that you wake up.

• Are you deep into potty training? If your toddler is fairly well day-trained and now you’re hoping she’ll make night or morning visits to the potty on her own, it’s time to shop for toddler beds.

Visit Here for Best Toddlers Beds: Best Toddlers Beds

Toddlers Beds 2018

List the Best Safest Toddler Beds for Kids

#1. Dream on Me Classic Toddler Bed

You will absolutely love the simple yet stylish design that comes with this bed. The bed features two complete side rails that ensure that your kid does not fall. You will also love the low-profile design that helps to avoid serious injuries in case the toddler falls from bed. Additionally, this model also comes with non-toxic finish that ensures that your child health is safeguarded even if he/she chews on the wood especially when teething. The bed also comes with all the necessary tools needed for installation.

#2. Orbelle 3-6T Toddler Bed

The orbelle toddler bed is elegant in its simplicity. The bed is constructed using a solid wood and has a gorgeous finish giving the bed a stylish look. The bed is also set at the right height that ensures that no back pains when bending while remaining with a low profile design to avoid injuries in case the baby falls. The bed is fitted with complete two side safety rails to avoid the kid falling from the bed. This is a great choice as it gives toddlers perfect transition for the toddler who has outgrown their cribs.

#3. Delta Children Plastic Toddler Bed

If you have a daughter, she will absolutely love this gorgeous bed. This bed has a pink finish and a stylish design making it a great choice for your daughter. This bed is recommended for toddlers aged 15 months and above. The low profile design prevents grave injuries if the child falls from bed. This design also makes it easy for the kid to get in and out of bed easily. For safety, the bed has attached guardrails. Another great feature that comes with this bed is the sturdy steel frame and high-quality plastic construction that ensures durability.

#4. Delta Children Plastic Toddler Bed

This is another gorgeous toddler bed from Delta children. Although the bed is constructed from, the plastic material it is super sturdy and designed to hold toddles who weighs up to 50 lbs. The bed features a colorful artwork of Axle that your child will love. The bed has two attached guardrails and a low profile that makes it easy for your child to get in and out of bed easily. The bed also features a stainless steel frame construction that enhances its durability.

#5. Delta Children Wood Toddler Bed

Do you have a baby boy or girl who loves playing with toy cars? If this is the case, he/ she will absolutely love sleeping in this bed. The bed resembles a truck and has colorful sides that will make your child comfortable. The bed has two high side rails that ensure the safety of your little one as his transition to a big kid bed. Another reason why you may consider selecting this bed is its easy assembly that takes less than ten minutes as well as strong and sturdy wood. Additionally, this bed has met the safety requirement and is JPMA certified.

#6. Delta Children Interactive Wood Toddler Bed

Designed for girls this bed is super cute and functional kid bed that has a low profile that allows for easier access. This bed has a sturdy frame and is decorated with colorful colors that your princess will love. For safety, the bed has two side rail attached and low profile. The bed will accommodate a crib-sized mattress making a perfect choice for individuals who are looking for a bed that gives their toddler a smooth transition from cribs to beds.

#7. Delta Children 3D-Footboard Toddler Bed

This is another stylish bed that comes with the new sesame street design. This bed design has incorporated several interesting characters including Elmo and cookie monster. The bed features a sturdy metal frame and high-quality plastic materials that are built to last. The materials are safe to use, so you do not have to worry about the health of your kid. In terms of comfort, the bed accepts crib size mattress and features guardrail to prevent the child falling from bed while playing or sleeping.

#8. Big Oshi Contemporary Design Toddler

If you are looking to save money and purchase a bed that you can convert to a day bed, then you will not have any doubts when selecting this bed. This bed is constructed with safety in mind and is recommended for a maximum weight of 60 pounds. For added protection, this bed comes with two side rails while still allowing the child to get in and out of bed easily. This contemporary toddler bed is also constructed using pine wood material. You also do need to worry about assembling this bed as you are provided with a detailed systematically guide and all tools needed for installation.

#9. Baby Relax Toddler Bed

An ideal choice for parents looking for a safe and affordable toddler bed. The bed has a low profile and sturdy wood construction ensuring that you do not only get a durable model but also a bed that is safe for your kid. Similar to other kids beds in the list this bed features two inbuilt guide rails that keep your kids secure in bed and accommodates a standard crib mattress. In addition, this bed features a child safe and gender-neutral finish.

#10. Delta Children Canopy Toddler Bed

This is something about a bed that captured our fascination. Besides its elegant styling, we loved the safety features that ensure that your kid gets in and out of bed safely. The attached guiderails also makes sure that the kid is secure when sleeping. The bed is child friendly and has an adorable shear canopy that your adorable little one will love playing in. besides; the bed features a sturdy frame that offers a relaxing ambience. Additionally as one of the best toddler bed, you can expect it to be easy to assemble. The bed also meets all the JMPA safety standards.

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Best Toddler Beds Reviews

What to Know Before Shopping for Toddler Beds

Before you get your HGTV on and start transforming the nursery into a big-kid room, consider the following:

• Toddler bed size. “What size is a toddler bed?” is a common question. Toddler beds actually have the same footprint cribs. That means toddler beds dimensions are roughly 31 inches by 56 inches—which means (good news!) your crib mattress works for your toddler bed too!

• Most cribs convert to toddler beds. You may need a conversion kit (sold separately), but for some models all you need to do is remove a side. (See “Best Crib to Toddler Bed,” below.)

• You’re a few years away from a twin bed. Your child will probably be too tall for the toddler bed by age 6, because remember, it’s the same size as a crib. (You’ll get a few years of use out of a toddler bed, but we don’t blame you for zeroing in on cheaper models!)

Best Toddler Beds: Our Picks

While you may already have a certain design in mind, you toddler will too. And as you may have already noticed, toddlers are passionate people! So even if two years ago you were all about the mid-century modern crib, you just might end up being the owner of a Frozen toddler bed this time around. That said, we’ve offered a dreamy mix of the best toddler beds: some, designed to appeal solely to the under-6 crowd; others, more sophisticated—but all thoughtfully constructed. Take a look. Who knows? You and your toddler might actually agree on the same one.

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Toddler Beds Reviews

Toddler Bed Safety Features

Safety Features

Certification

Toddler beds should be certified by the Juvenile Products Manufacturers Association (JPMA). This proves the bed either meets or exceeds the necessary federal safety standards.

Safety Features

Safety Rails

We've mentioned them above, but it's worth noting again that toddler beds should have side rails – or "safety – to help prevent your child falling out of bed if she rolls around in her sleep.

Safety Features

Construction

A safe toddler bed should be well constructed. Give it a shake to make sure it seems sturdy enough.

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Landing Page: Best Toddler Beds 2018-2019 Reviews, Price, & Comparison

Source: allbestcribs.com

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