This was the scene in my house last night after my husband got home from work:
My husband: "Hi Honey! Can you remind me to plug in the car after dinner? I brought home the EV."
Me: "Ok."
After dinner I'm washing dishes and hear, "Crash! Bang! Zappt...Boom! Zip. Slam!" I walk toward the laundry room, and there's my hubbie with wires, wire strippers and cutters, voltage testers, and other electrical thingies that I'm clueless about.
"Um...what are you doing?"
"Working on plugging in the car."
A few minutes later I see him go into the garage and he's plugging in the car with his contraption.
"Is that thing going to explode?"
"God, I hope not."
See, when you live with an engineer you learn to accept things like this, calmly and without qualms. It's part of the package deal.