At a party that my family hosted recently, my eldest son Jacob, nearly 9 years old, had a tantrum when my husband told him he had to stand by the entrance for 10 minutes and greet our friends. Instead of smiling politely as the guests arrived, he looked as if his fingernails were being removed slowly. Finally I told my husband that I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just let him go,” I groaned.

“No,” my husband insisted. “It’s not asking much, and lots of our friends want to see him.”

It certainly wasn’t asking much. But after a few more minutes of Jacob’s agonized sulking, my husband sprang him loose, partly in deference to my discomfort.

When I wrote a column in June about the dismay I feel when I hear children (my own included) being disrespectful to their parents, I received dozens of letters from parents who let out a collective sigh of relief.

“It sure makes me feel better to know that I’m not the only parent out there who is continually shocked by what my kids are comfortable saying to me,” one father wrote.

But fortunately, most children will never exhibit this kind of behavior toward anyone but their own parents. According to my friends with teenagers and college-age children, as the hormonal rush of adolescence eventually passes, a teenager’s sense of reason is restored, and rude language and disrespectful behavior becomes a thing of the past.

But what about our children’s sense of duty? When does that kick in? How do we instill in our children a sense of obligation toward their families, friends, and broader communities? How do they respond when they have to do something they don’t really want to do?

I could view Jacob’s inability to naturally understand his obligation to his family and friends as a sign of his immaturity. But I must admit to a niggling worry that it might be something more ominous. Lately, when it comes to family and community obligations, I have seen more than my fair share of teenagers and young adults in their 20s choose what feels better or easier, instead of what is right, and maybe more difficult or time-consuming.

One mother of a recent college grad told me that her son doesn’t care if he ever comes home for family occasions. “He lives in the same city as his younger brothers and sisters and he doesn’t come home for quick birthday dinners or anniversaries and sometimes he forgets to call,” the mother of four told me. “I get it that he’s in his 20s and doing his own thing, but one doesn’t necessarily make the other impossible.”

“My daughter-in-law is in her late 20s,” a woman in her 60s told me. “She and I have a fantastic relationship, and she calls me often and makes an effort, similar to what all my friends did for their mother-in-laws. But so many of my friends have daughters-in-law that never pick up the phone. My friends try not to take it personally — they tell me that they think these girls simply don’t know the first thing about familial obligation.”

“Look, these are kids that have been raised to acknowledge and follow their feelings,” a psychiatrist on the Upper East Side told me. “They are part of a generation that responds to doing what feels good, and sometimes that is the bare minimum. Today, there is a different prevailing ethos than the one that existed in the past. Fifty, and even 30 years ago, you were raised to be respectful, helpful, dutiful. Remember when kids said ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, ma’am?’ You knew your place in your family and what was expected of you. And it doesn’t help matters that today’s parents are too scared — or lazy — to call their children on their bad behavior.”

My dread of having a temporarily rude teenager pales in comparison to having a young adult who might not go the extra distance — let alone recognize a situation where there is a right way to behave.

I haven’t let up on Jacob since the party. “Jacob, please go turn the bath on for the girls”; “Jacob, go grab me a diaper”; “Jacob, bring me the plates from the table”; “Jacob, please fold your pajamas”; “Jacob, I left a gift in the apartment. Please go back upstairs and get it.”

When he looks at me in horror — which he occasionally does — I have an assorted list of responses. “Jacob, there are going to be many times in your life when you have to do things that you don’t want to do,” I began my first mini-lecture. “The attitude with which you approach these times will, in part, determine your own happiness. You are part of a family, a school, and a community, and this means you have responsibilities.”

But there are times when my response sounds more like, “Because I asked you to.”

sarasberman@aol.com