This past August, my wife and I test drove a Model S at the Farmers Branch, TX repair center. The effects of that test drive should not be a mystery to anyone who has driven a Model S. To say that the single 15-minute test drive induced fixation would be a laughable understatement. In the weeks following, I quite literally devoured every written word and video I could find on the Model S. I even watched kmanauto's two-hour youtube road trip video in its entirety. Twice. My starry eyed fixation wasn't lost on my wife or my daughter. Rather than mock my new love interest, my wife was supportive. Finding me dozing in my easy chair, my iPad fallen from my limp fingers, its screen still displaying the Design Studio, she would tuck a blanket around my sleeping form and overlook my nearly adulterous mutterings of "Tesla, Tesla, Tesla..." My daughter's response took a different form: intervention. Not from an admittedly justifiable call to mental health professionals, but from Santa. In October, weary from two months of incessant Tesla babble from her father, she wrote her usual letter to Santa Claus, albeit with one significant addition. After her list of desired dolls, games, and other goodies, she implored Santa to please bring her father a Tesla for Christmas. "I'm writing early," she offered, "because I know it will take your elves a while to build a Tesla." Behind the scenes, my wife and I were transitioning from "wouldn't it be nice to own a Tesla?" to "yes, we can purchase a car only slightly less expensive than an organ transplant." By late October, we pushed the button on a P85 inventory (service loaner). In addition to the attractive cost savings, purchasing an inventory car had the added benefit of quick fulfillment: The time from ordering to delivery was less than 10 days. In today's Tesla world, that's as near to instant gratification as one could ever hope to achieve. Still, the 10 days dragged by. Finally, the P85 arrived in Dallas and I made arrangements with Glover Davis in Farmers Branch for the pickup. As fuzzy delivery details coalesced into a clear picture, I began executing a plot: Using the near omnipotent power of Photoshop, I created a letter from Santa, along with an envelope that was so superbly crafted to look as though it had come from the North Pole that it would have fooled the most discerning postal inspector. The day before our scheduled pickup, I slipped the letter into our mailbox, mixed with that day's mail that had already arrived. A short while later I asked our daughter to get the mail. Imagine her delight when she found a letter from the North Pole, signed by Santa himself, instructing her to direct her family to 13725 Welch Rd the following day to receive an early Christmas surprise. I didn't want to burden anyone at the service center with an elaborate role to play, so when I informed Glover of my plans, I merely asked him if he would refrain from making any reference to our having purchased the car. If he would, I asked, merely act like it showed up out of nowhere, the plan would be a success. Our drive from McKinney to Farmers Branch seemed like hours. The past day had been filled with our daughter speculating what Santa's surprise might be. A pony? A ranch? What surprise gift could possibly take us 20 miles from home? (Being ever helpful, I suggested that perhaps Santa had arranged for us to go to a tattoo parlor to have Christmas-themed tattoos on our butts. Surprisingly, the family rejected my prediction.) Our daughter’s seemingly endless list of potential surprises even included a new Tesla. Fortunately, we managed to keep a straight face at that one, replying only “that would certainly be nice." Her speculation continued right up until the point where we turned the corner and the Tesla building became visible. With that revelation, all decorum went out the window and the squealing began. Only a video would do it justice, but suffice it to say that nearly five weeks later, my ears are still ringing from shrieks of “We’re getting a Tesla?!?!? We’re getting a Tesla!!!! We’re getting a Tesla!!!!” Upon our arrival, we asked for Glover Davis, as the Santa letter instructed, and I must say Glover did me proud. Not only did he and his colleagues play along, they went above and beyond. Santa's elves, it seemed, had shown up earlier in the day and left a shiny red P85 with my name on it. The 17" display even featured my name, preconfigured as a user. It seemed that every technician and customer service rep was in on the plan, too. Virtually everyone who happened by that afternoon made some reference to Santa bringing the Tesla. Our daughter was gushing with pride that her letter to Santa had produced such a result. Later that evening, I received an email from Glover, thanking us for including him and the Farmers Branch staff in "their most enjoyable delivery ever." No, Glover. Thank you for making an incredible event even more awesome. Our daughter is still walking on air at the incredible power of a simple plea to Santa and the realization that such wishes can come true. Have a Merry Tesla Christmas, everyone!