Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in a fit of what I can only assume was a miniature-furniture-hoarding frenzy, has acquired a six-pack of what they call "Kiddie Cots." They are, in essence, minimalist cots designed for small, loud humans. The frame appears to be a respectable powder-coated steel, which should withstand my rigorous inspections, and the corners are rounded, a thoughtful touch to protect my delicate form during high-speed pursuits. The main surface is a taut, breathable mesh, an intriguing feature that promises a draft on my undercarriage—a welcome sensation. While the thought of sharing my domain with five other creatures is abhorrent, the prospect of a single, elevated, and sturdy napping platform, a full five inches off the cold, peasant-level floor, has a certain strategic appeal. It is potentially a throne, but the sheer quantity makes me question my human's intentions.
Key Features
- Classroom Cots: Children will sleep comfortably for rest time at childcare centers or homes; cots elevate children 5” off the floor to keep them cool and stable during nap time
- Built to Last: Made with powder-coated steel poles, durable plastic corners, and heavy-duty, stretch-resistant breathable fabric; rest cots are designed for daily use in early childhood facilities
- Space Saving: Cots are readily accessible for teachers by storing vertically to save valuable space in educational classrooms; cots nest for convenient storage, safely stack up to 20 cots high
- Certified Safe: Cots are GREENGUARD [GOLD] Certified for low VOCs, CPSIA compliant; feature rounded edges for added safety; mesh fits tightly to frame keeping little fingers and toes protected
- Product Dimensions: Standard size cots measure 40” L x 23” W x 5” H; pair with ECR4Kids rest time accessories including standard cot sheets and blankets, sold separately
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The invasion began on a Tuesday. The Human, my supposed caretaker and staff, wrestled a colossal cardboard box into my living room, grunting and sweating in a most undignified manner. From this box, they extracted a series of blue fabric rectangles and metal poles. An hour of clanking and puzzling later, the first enemy structure stood assembled. It was a low-slung, sterile-looking platform. An affront. Then, to my mounting horror, they built another. And another. Soon, six of these blue platforms were complete, an occupying force in the center of my territory. I watched from the arm of the sofa, my tail-tip twitching with righteous indignation. My fury turned to tactical curiosity when the Human began to stack them, one atop the other, creating a strange, tiered ziggurat. It was not a collection of beds; it was a fortress. A watchtower. A multi-level command center placed directly in the strategic heart of my kingdom. The Human, their bizarre construction project complete, finally left the room. This was my chance to infiltrate the structure and assess its worthiness. I approached with caution, my paws silent on the rug. The powder-coated steel legs felt cool and solid under my probing paw; they did not wobble. A good sign. The ascent was a test of my considerable skill. I leaped silently to the first level, landing on the taut blue mesh. It gave slightly with a satisfying *thrumm*, a resilient and breathable surface that my claws could find purchase in without snagging. I used the durable plastic corner pieces as leverage points, vaulting myself to the second level, then the third. Each five-inch elevation was a perfect, calculated leap. This was no mere pile of furniture; it was a purpose-built climbing structure, an exercise in vertical dominance designed for a creature of my exact specifications. From the summit of the sixth cot, nearly three feet in the air, the world was mine. I had a clear line of sight to the food bowls, the front door, and the window where the foolish blue jay taunts me daily. A gentle, cooling breeze flowed through the mesh beneath my luxurious gray fur. This was not a "Kiddie Cot." This was the Citadel of Pete, a throne of unparalleled comfort and strategic value. The human, for all their bumbling, had accidentally acquired the single greatest piece of feline architecture I have ever had the pleasure of conquering. It is worthy. Oh, it is most worthy.
