THERE’S absolutely no doubt that commuting from bed to a makeshift desk and blobbing along in velour tracksuits and furry slippers all day long is a blissful way to work.

I know, I’ve tried it.

My house was sparkling, my washing loads done, and elasticated-waistband pyjama bottoms ensured I remained safe in the conviction a daily step count of 68 was all I needed to stay non-obese.

But here’s the rub (and not just my thighs).

After a couple of weeks, I became lethargic, lazy, unmotivated and yet, perversely, convinced that I was much, much happier WFH.

This weekend Charlie Mullins, the founder of London’s Pimlico Plumbers, claimed parents working from home were sending the wrong message to their kids.

The self-made tycoon claims WFH’ers are akin to “dole scroungers”.

He added: “It’s sent out the wrong message and cost billions.

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“Are they not aware that when youths leave school now they’re never going to go and work in their life, because the culture is, ‘Well my mum or dad work from home that’s what I’ll do’?”

I don’t have children, but after four long weeks in my company even Dora, the dachshund, was beginning to stare at me with thinly veiled contempt.

I went back to the office.

Charlie, who started as an apprentice at the age of 15, would not be a multi-millionaire had he tried to fix blocked drains from his kitchen.

My parents set up and ran their own catering company.

Every morning, without fail, my insomniac dad would rise at 5am and be at work an hour later.

He got home to the opening strains of the Coronation Street theme — and supper on the table — at 7.30pm.

Their work ethic ensured I didn’t slack when it came to GCSEs, A levels or my degree.

As a cub showbiz reporter I thought nothing of staying out until 3am, and being at my desk at 10am sharp the next day.

It’s just what you did if you wanted to be a Fleet Street journalist.

SWAN IN

Nowadays, many graduates believe it is their God-given right to swan into the office on their own terms.

They would last about a minute in showbiz.

Entitled Gen Z’ers are angrily gunning for employers who won’t let them have their “work-life balance”.

For kids growing up now, what sort of example is this?

Get stressed, take a month off.

Of course, with people suffering from real and genuine mental health issues, it’s imperative they seek, and get, help.

But there is a creeping generation of entitled workers thinking it is their right to lay down terms of their employment.

If we keep going soft on workers, eventually we will become soft as a society — capitulating at the first whiff of difficulty.

UNHEALTHY

It emerged this month that Britons were left at the mercy of the Taliban in Afghanistan because civil servants working from home could not access vital documents.

Without face-to-face interaction, mistakes get made. The germ of great ideas does not get sparked.

Take the Queen.

Aged 95, she’s just completed a gruelling schedule of 120 official engagements in 194 days.

That’s 120 days she’s been on the ground, proffering a gloved hand or gamely feigning interest in Buckingham Palace garden parties since the death of her beloved husband, Prince Philip.

Despite her recent hospital stay, on Monday she will be in Glasgow for the first day of the COP26 climate change conference.

I’m sure she’s had better Mondays.

Not once has she said she can’t be a***d, and asked to Zoom in from her four-poster.

I’m all for a bit of flexibility and employers offering a split office/home week to staff.

Work shouldn’t be slave labour.

But a permanent shift to five days a week from the sofa isn’t healthy — mentally or physically.

Talent rises to top

THE people have spoken. Or rather, read.

JK Rowling’s new book, The Christmas Pig, has shot to the top of the official UK charts – despite the very best efforts of a vociferous few trying to cancel her.

In the latest exhausting twist, Oxfam has withdrawn a “Wonder Woman” bingo game featuring the author following complaints by trans staff. Sigh.

But now the Harry Potter author has secured her 16th No1 tome.

Fittingly, it comes 16 months after she was accused of transphobia for suggesting only women can menstruate.

The fuss generated by that tweet, and the vitriol aimed at her, was horrific. It was the 21st century equivalent of trial by ducking stool.

But JK’s latest commercial triumph just goes to show that the cancel culture mob, while undoubtedly very, very loud, can never quash talent.

Doing role to a T

UNTIL last month, we all thought there was only one Maggie T in the Tory party.

But then along came Maggie Throup, promoted to Vaccines Minister, and thus one became two.

For the first six weeks of her new ministerial reign, Margaret Mk II has been underwhelmingly mute.

But with our tertiary jabs rollout at a critical stage, the former whip has finally sprung into action and backed The Sun’s brilliant Give Britain A Booster campaign.

By all accounts this Maggie is no Iron Lady.

Instead, she’s a warm, unpretentious and capable woman, one who doesn’t stand for “showbizzy politics”.

Behind the scenes she will be quietly getting the job done.

Fur babies worth all the fuss

LEWIS HAMILTON has been mocked after hosting a lavish ninth birthday party for his bulldog Roscoe – complete with bone-shaped vegan cake and fancy dress.

Until recently, I didn’t really think I had a maternal bone in my body.

I’ve never been especially broody, and briefly fell out with a friend after describing her son as “it”. I also contrived to get the name of my godson wrong at his christening.

But earlier this year came along my firstborn, Dora.

The miniature dachshund is now ten months old, and I’ve become that person – proudly texting my mates when she does a wee outside, and pan-frying her fillet steaks. (She and I shared seabass for dinner last night).

Clearly her first birthday (December 20) will be celebra- ted accordingly.

What’s the time?

ON Sunday the clocks go back.

Meaning, for the next six months only, the time in my car will be correct.

My pal Alexa

I’VE just cracked and purchased an Alexa – hiya Putin!

After setting the thing up, and programming my music preferences, I found myself – like an actual loon – asking inane questions of the small device.

(To save you the bother, Alexa’s six, cites Back To The Future as her favourite movie and is “happily single”*.)

Like a true Brit, I’ve noticed I’m also unfailingly polite to the thing, for ever saying please, thank you and bidding it goodnight.

Again, like a loon.

*Not sure why I asked, either

Rod's rusks

SUN columnists were last week asked to cite their favourite biscuit.

Inexplicably, Rod Liddle chose a malted milk.

Rod, Rod, Rod! You may as well have chosen a rusk.

Woke is bad taste

NOW it’s the turn of poor Prue Leith to face the wrath of meddling woke warriors.

The Bake Off judge has been criticised by an eating disorder charity for saying a contestant’s biscuits were “worth every calorie”.

Apparently her phrase is “triggering”.

Nonsense. I don’t know a single woman who doesn’t, at least loosely, think in calorific terms every time a non-lettucey morsel passes her oesophagus.

It’s not healthy and obviously it’s neurotic.

But it’s what we do, and there’s no point trying to recondition 2,000 years of the female psyche.

The weight dictator

IF Claire from Steps, Charlotte Crosby, Scarlett Moffatt and Lisa Riley can all bring out fitness DVDs/diet books, then why can’t Kim Jong-Un?

The North Korean dictator quietly shed three stone over the summer, showing off his new, relatively slimline, appearance last week.

Whatever the secret, I’d definitely buy that DVD.

Romeo, Romeo

FORGET the policeman test, there’s a new barometer for measuring old age.

Society bible Tatler has placed Romeo Beckham eighth on its annual “Most Eligible People in Britain” list.

He’s 19. I distinctly remember him lolloping about in nappies.

In my mind, he’s still about six. A couple of years ago Romeo’s big brother, Brooklyn, topped the same poll.

So, basically, every time a Beckham child passes the age of consent, up they’ll pop in Tatler.

When Harper appears it really is time to retire.

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