I know I am cute and short, but please refrain from doing the one thing I hate the most.

Patting me on the head.

It still amazes me every time it happens. One day I assumed this annoying invasion of privacy would either stop happening, or I would stop caring. No such luck. It happened again about a week ago.

Maybe it is because I am at the perfect height for it or perhaps my hair always has just the right amount of shine.

It is not just the action that bugs me. It is what lies behind these "little love pats."

Just because I spend 85 percent of my day in a seated position does not mean that I am anymore adorable, helpless or funnier than the average college student (if there is such a thing). My opinions may not be all that rational, you might even disagree with them all together, but I still have a right to be heard.

I have worked hard to get where I am, and I would like to think I have earned the right to be respected as an adult.

As I have to remind my family everyday, I am twenty-two and not twelve.

Would a broadcaster get away with patting the head of one of the Hollywood elite as they try to navigate their way down the latest red carpet affair?

I don't think so.

So, here are my criteria. If it does not have fur, you are not related to it, or it is older than you are: keep your hands to yourself.

Some people have accused me of being a bit of a patting hypocrite because I let a select few people get away with the normally forbidden physical blunder. Those people know to use this privilege with extreme caution.

When patted, I can never guarantee freedom from physical retaliation, which includes squashed toes.

It is because I know they love me. They also know that I am far from angel material. More than a few choice words have flown out of my mouth when I felt the situation called for it. I get angry, sad and exited before rational thought even has a chance to develop.

If I am being more than a little obnoxious or over dramatic, a quick pat will put me in my place.

I let my family and best friends get away with it because pity does not enter their minds when they look at me. In fact in most cases they do not even see the wheelchair in which I must sit.

They see a person.

I will always love and respect them for that, because I know that when they pat it is to help me to laugh at myself.

Just because I am sitting down does not mean they look down on me.

I know that most people just aren't thinking before they reach for my head. They think they are showing affection, or maybe they just think it is an expectable greeting.

Well, it's not.

It makes me feel as if my opinion is not valued, and it is a real violation of personal space.

Next time you get the urge, please don't pat.

Laura Jones is a senior journalism major from Shreveport and serves as managing editor for The Tech Talk. E-mail comments to ljo007@latech.edu.