Uncertain future for the leaders' campaign Sirens Tony Abbott's wife Margie and daughter Frances arrive for Abbott's winning speech in Sydney on September 7, 2013. CAPTAIN von Trapp knew how to perk up a boring party. He'd roll out his seven, talented children with a boatswain's call and get them to perform the Sound of Music thing in front of his enthralled guests. This election campaign saw Tony Abbott and Kevin Rudd attempt to outdo The Captain. The telegenic, intelligent children of both leaders made positive and polished appearances on behalf of their fathers. It was a bright way of deflecting from an otherwise beige political campaign; one filled with middle-aged blokes delivering soporific speeches and gag-inducing gaffes. We expect the leaders to be flanked by family on election night. Tony Abbott's daughters positively eclipsed him. Louise, Bridget and Frances, dressed impeccably in current collection Toni Maticevski white, were a winning trifecta. White represents innocence, purity, honesty, cleanliness, new beginnings. This was no sartorial slip-up. It was the pinnacle of a pitch-perfect offspring campaign. At the Coalition campaign launch, Frances joked: "He thought netball was a different form of rugby." That's something my dad would say. It made Tony sound relatable, even personable. Bridget sent out a mass hero-gram to the Liberal Party faithful, saying: He often volunteers as a firefighter and surf life saver. He doesn't like to bring this up on the campaign ... Tony didn't have to bring it up on the campaign because his daughter did. In a touching email. On Father's Day. Clever. Even Louise's brief homecoming from Switzerland was met with a daggy-dad tweet. But are these three Sirens destined themselves to be dashed upon the rocks now the election is over? Already numerous Facebook pages have appeared objectifying and bullying the girls. Some as platitudinous as: "Tony Abbott gets my vote because his daughters are hot." Others are far more offensive. That is one of the dangers of using kids as party props. I fear family members are not equipped to deal with the fiery kingdom of politics. It's not a dynasty and they were not elected. At best, they may suffer that post-election affliction "relevance deprivation syndrome" - a term coined by a defeated Gareth Evans. At worst they may be unable to go back to a normal life (except perhaps Louise who can fly back to the relevant anonymity of Switzerland). Both leaders were guilty of rolling out well-behaved, glossy family members to add that spark to what was an otherwise humdrum event. Kevin Rudd had a formidable party starter in daughter Jessica. She has close to 21,000 Twitter followers adding a social media cool cred to the campaign. She's an accomplished author and a terrific interviewee. She has a daughter, Josephine, providing an instant baby prop for campaign kisses. But are the children, and their children, entitled to privacy once they step down from the political stage? I'd like to think so, but I have my doubts. Jessica, who played an active role in the campaign, was annoyed long lens cameras were still peering over the family fence post-election, tweeting: "A few good reasons for a tort of privacy." Someone retorted: "Can't court it for so long and expect it to go away." In Australia, family members traditionally have not been wheeled out, singing These are a few of my favourite things. I covered the 1996 and 1998 Federal Election campaigns for a television network. At the risk of sounding nostalgic, I remember them as feisty affairs. But I don't recall families being used as marketing tools. During the '96 campaign the then prime minister, Paul Keating, lacerated me with a death stare after I asked what he deemed an unpalatable question. That withering look has been burnt into my retinas. Terrifying stuff. A colourful campaign. No need to roll out the relos (despite how exotic Anita-the-Alitalia-flight-attendant and four children may have been). If families of politicians did make an appearance it was because they slid into the public glare by default. Dallas Hayden's shoplifting offences will always rain on the reign of former Opposition Leader, and Governor-General, Bill Hayden. That dress worn by Sonia McMahon scandalised the White House in 1971. Tailored splits held together with rhinestones outshone her husband Billy's prime ministerial duties. Hawkey cried over both his daughters' drug addiction and his repeated unfaithfulness to Hazel, his wife. More locally, it's well known that Former Premier Steve Bracks resigned from politics because his son Nick crashed the family car after a few bevvies. When referring to Bridget and Frances, her "daughter nemeses," Jessica Rudd said: "We both care about our fathers and want the best for them and our country." It's a heartwarming sentiment. But does politics want the best for them? What happens to the families now? If they were important in the campaign, are they relevant after it? Or will they be discarded like dimpled, deflated balloons now the party's over? Elise Elliott is a reporter with A Current Affair