My son is safe

It's been something of a cliffhanger of a night for me.  At 6 pm, Tony and I cuddled up on the lounge, in the freezing Brisbane cold and watched Australia Votes with Kerry O'Brien, Annabel Crabb and Antony Green (of whom I am very fond and I love watching him talk seats, swings and statistics and think, he is sooo clever and I must stop gushing).  
     Mum planned to cross the Tasman with Kibbim if Kevin Rudd won.  So I needed to know, ASAP if Rudd was in or if Abbott was getting the top job (then I could breathe a sigh of relief) and get on with the job of enjoying Antony Green's analysis, after all, it happens only every couple of years.  
     To be honest, I quite like having Mum around so I felt Rudd needed to go.  In fact, if Rudd pulled through I'd be really sad.  Mum has done all the cooking and homework with the kids since early July.  I don't like cooking or doing homework.  
     Early in the evening, I was heartened by what started out as a 'crushing defeat' for Labor, thinking my son was safe.  
     But the crushing defeat became a less despairing defeat and I just didn't understand enough about politics or statistics to know either way.  If the Coalition was doing so well, why wasn't the election being called?  
     I was wondering whether I would have to start writing a book titled, Not with my son.      Where the hell was Tony Abbott?  He'd been 'quietly confident' of a win, but I wanted to hear that victory speech, the one politicians make when they are flanked by their families and people are cheering in the background.  That way I'd know my son was safe and I could get on with writing the sequel to My Island Homicide.  From all the hype in the media, Abbott should have been popping the corks before seven o'clock.
     At eight, Labor seats were still falling, but no concession by Rudd.  The anticipated swing against Labor in Queensland didn't happen.  Would that change things?
     Would someone make a definitive call, please?
     Thank God for Joe O'Brien and the easy-to-understand virtual parliament with lots of blue Gumbies and not so many red ones.  I reckon I can relax now.  My son is safe and I can resume writing the sequel to My Island Homicide.