ACCORDING to yet more new research probing into our lifestyle habits, UK viewers are watching more than four hours’ telly every day.

Well, all I can say is lucky old you – I just wish I had the time.

As the Echo’s resident television critic, I could, with impunity, sit for hours on end goggling the box and declaring “but it’s part of my job!”, yet the reality is that I am lucky if I catch four hours’ worth of broadcasting in a week, let alone a day, and, aside from shows I record to watch at many a godforsaken hour of the day or night in order to review them for the paper, the majority tend to be of the Mr Men, Mr Maker and Scooby Doo variety, as our TV sets seem to have mysteriously been programmed to prioritise pre-school and cartoon channels.

Even a straw poll among colleagues revealed that a couple of hours a day is about the maximum and that will include the news and maybe a favourite regular show or two.

So just who are all those people, sitting wrapped in their slankets, with their cushioned lap trays, and giant mono-slippers, watching the equivalent of nearly half a working day’s worth of telly?

J’accuse two groups.

First, the Sleepy Soapsters.

They start off well, fully intending to just pop in to Emmerdale for a quick catch-up at 7 o’clock, but before they know it, they’ve taken a full-on tour of Albert Square, Sunhill, Coronation Street and Holby City, coming out the other end almost comatose but, oddly, capable of making a brew.

Then there’s the JK tribe member.

Other things you can do in four hours

• Reading a big, fat novel like Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall

• Take an advanced driving lesson

• Walk from chine to chine and reward yourself with an ice cream at the end

• Play a round of golf

• Write a poem, or even a letter

• Have a DIY pamper session

• Take a round trip on the Orient Express from Bournemouth station

• Meet a mate for a pint or a coffee

• See a ballet

• Build a ‘simple’ item of IKEA furniture

This poor creature with nowhere to go is as good as lost to us, flicking on at 9.30 in the morning for a daily dose of Jeremy Kyle vileness, and before they can say “DNA result”, Kyle’s stellar cast of toothless, tattooed paternity dogers has morphed into the fluffy loveliness that is Philip Schofield and Holly Willoughby as they oversee a recipe the JKer will never, ever try at home. Then, as soon as the last phoned-in personal relationship problem is solved by a quivering, watery-eyed Denise Robertson, it’s time for a diet of drivel and innuendo in the cutting edge Loose Women.

A whole four hours neatly stitched up, I think you’ll find.