You play “Moanin” by Mingus in the car, and he asks if you can stay in the driveway until it’s over, and your heart sings, and there can be no doubt that he is your son. You walk inside, and he carelessly throws his shoes on the floor of the kitchen, and then walks into a wall because he’s not paying attention, and your heart groans, and there can be no doubt that he is your son.