SERENA WILLIAMS has a daughter. #Metwo actually, aged 26 and 14.

And the point is? Well, none really.

Unless you want to cynically brandish your motherhood as a weapon when something at work doesn’t go your way.

Serena’s behaviour during the US Open final has potentially overtaken John McEnroe’s 1981 Wimbledon meltdown as the most epic tennis tantrum of all time.

Whether she saw his hand signals or not, her coach, er, coached her from the crowd and umpire Carlos Ramos gave her a warning because of it.

“I didn’t get coaching. How can you say that? You owe me an apology.

"I have never cheated in my life. I have a daughter and I stand for what’s right for her,” she shouted.

What followed was a shameful display of racket-smashing petulance, verbal abuse that resulted in a game penalty and a further rant along the lines of: “There are men out here that do a lot worse, but because I’m a woman you’re going to take this away from me?”

In the post-match press conference, she mitigated: “I’m here fighting for women’s rights and women’s equality.”

No she wasn’t. She was fighting for Brand Serena and her sense of entitlement — there for all to see in her remark to Ramos that: “You will never be an umpire on MY COURT again.”

Oh dear. Serena is rightly regarded by many as the best women’s tennis player of all time. With every serve, volley or smash she powers over the net at a zillion mph, she embodies female empowerment.

So how disappointing that, in a world where all too many genuine examples of inequality still exist, she’s wrongly played the sexism card to suit her own ends.

The truth is that Carlos Ramos is a notorious jobsworth who sticks rigidly to the rules, whether you’re male, female or, one imagines, gender fluid.

He has riled many top players with his code violations, including Andy Murray, Rafael Nadal, Nick Kyrgios and, indeed, Serena’s sister Venus who, after he accused her of communicating with her coach, simply countered: “I’m 36 years old. I play fair,” without feeling the need to cry sexism.

Neither, for that matter, did Serena herself when, at the US Open in 2009, another umpire handed a match to her opponent after she told a linesman who had called against her: “I swear to God, I am (bleep) going to take this (bleep) ball and shove it down your (bleep) throat.’’

But hey, she didn’t “have a daughter” then.

Following this latest incident, tennis legend Billie Jean King supported Serena’s claims with this tweet: “When a woman is emotional, she’s ‘hysterical’ and she’s penalised for it.

When a man does the same, he’s ‘outspoken’ and there are no repercussions. Thank you, Serena Williams, for calling out this double standard. More voices are needed to do the same.”

In many instances, in many workplaces around the world, this is true. But not in this one.

It wasn’t her gender that Serena was penalised for. It was her behaviour.

And by the way, on court with her was the softly spoken, clearly shaken Naomi Osaka, a 20-year-old woman who, through sheer skill, grit and determination, took on one of the most formidable tennis players in the world and won the first ever Grand Slam for Japan.

What about her right to enjoy that victory without it being overshadowed by the petulant posturing of someone who really should know, and behave, better.

A story I’ve seen before

LOUISE and Charlie Draven from Middlesbrough are said to be Britain’s first gender fluid parents set to undergo reassignment surgery.

Biological dad Louise, who their five-year-old child calls “Mummy”, will have an op to become a woman in December.

Birth mum Charlie, who is “Daddy”, will undergo a female-to-male op within the next five years.

Society is far more informed about trans-gender issues these days but in 1994 I interviewed a couple called Janeen Newman and David Willis, from Louth, in Lincs.

Janeen (formerly John, a Grimsby trawlerman) and David were bringing up the eight-year-old daughter David had conceived pre-op, and were stoically facing a lot of prejudice at the time.

Transgender trail-blazers, they hit the head-lines after publicly writing to The Queen for permission to marry as their preferred gender, saying: “We are ordinary citizens and seek only to be able to live our lives as other citizens are allowed. We wish to live industrious, integrated lives in society.”

Her Majesty refused but, of course, 20 years later the law changed and, as long as they have a gender recognition certificate, their wish could now be granted.

I hope they fulfilled it.

Janeen and David, I’d love to know, so please get in touch.

Ohhhh yeah, Jacqui

FORMER Home Secretary Jacqui Smith is sceptical about BBC drama The Bodyguard, saying it features “too much shagging” and not enough paperwork.

A viewpoint perhaps borne out by the fact that her husband, Richard Timney, notoriously watched porn films while she was out working.

Snappy indeed, Charlie

WHEN Prince Charles agreed to do a photoshoot for the current edition of GQ magazine, it reportedly took just “minutes” because “one-take Charlie” (as he’s known in sycophantic circles) knows exactly what’s required after a lifetime of posing for cameras.

Maybe. But one suspects it’s got more to do with His Notoriously Impatient Highness telling the snapper: “You’ve got two minutes, then I’m gone.”

• AUTHOR Radha Agrawal has written a book called Belong, which aims to cure us of FOMO – the “fear of missing out” on social events. Personally speaking, I suffer from FOBI. Fear of being invited.

A fat lot of good

THE Government is to build ten “healthy” new towns around the country, with outdoor gyms, health food cafes and community parks.

NHS England boss Professor Sir Malcolm Grant says: “We aim to help people live happier and healthy lives.”

Hmmm. Nice sentiment, but most existing towns have all of these things anyway.

Trouble is, certain people avoid them like the plague, preferring to sit on their lardy backsides while eating a takeaway that’s been delivered straight to their door.

It’s the mindset we need to change, not the location.

Uni’s all about furry milk

POSH supermarket Waitrose is marketing a “starter kit” for students including a jar of rose harissa (no, me neither) and a bottle of Organic Tamari soya sauce.

Meanwhile, certain universities are offering private halls of residence with shared cinema, gym and music room.

No, no, no.

The point of packing your idle teens off to college is so they get a taste of what real life is like, away from the Bank Of Mum And Dad and those marvellous fairies who descend in the night and wash, iron and re-hang their clothes.

Until they’ve opened the fridge to find furry milk and lived in squalor, they’ve learned zilch.

HOT-FOOTING IT TO THE ALTAR

THE new wedding day must-have among trendy types, apparently, is a pair of bespoke bridal trainers.

Each to their own and all that.

Still, if you get to the altar and have second thoughts, at least you’ll be well equipped to do a runner.

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In-tent on having a good time

IF proof was needed that the majority of music festivals have now become a bastion of the middle classes, look no further than the 60,000 tents abandoned after this year’s Reading Festival.

When I last attended Reading in 1983 (Thin Lizzy and Sad Cafe, as you ask) I had to meticulously repack my two-man tent for the journey home, as me and my mum were holidaying in it the following week.

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