Timewarp Mother

After having a great time with friends Julie and Kenten, I arrived at my house around 10:30pm. I checked in with my mom, said goodnight, brushed my teeth and read another chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. (The black and white starred Gregory Peck - I love his voice.)
I turned out the lights and just as I was starting to fall asleep, I hear the familiar light tapping of my mother's hand against my door. It usually means she has some unimportant news to tell me, but if I don't answer her, she'll keep tapping until I do. She used to just tap a few times before opening my door, but I've made a habit of locking it.
So I answer, "Yes?"
"Sharon . . . I just wanted you to know that if you're hungry . . . there's food in the fridge." I'm not kidding. She didn't say leftovers, steak or potatoes. She said 'Food.'
"Okay, going to sleep now" I replied loud enough to be heard through the door, and I hear her turn around and tread down the stairs.
She must have specifically got out of bed and walked up the stairs just to tell me that. I know she has a hard time not telling me what's in the fridge. Why? I'm not sure. It's something obsessive. She once interrupted a phone call I was having to let me know that she had placed some bacon in the meat drawer. It really bothered me when I was rushing for work and she compulsively had to tell me that the leftover potatoes that were in the fridge the night before were still there that morning. She yelled it to me from the balcony as I was walking down the driveway.
Maybe my glasses subconsiously tells her that I can't see for myself. Maybe her obsession is based a discrimination against my inability to see clearly without specs.
Seriously, I've learned from the cognitive program I took that when people help without asking if help is needed, they're subconsiously or unintentionally saying that they don't trust the capabilities or competence of the person they're helping. Sometimes I think Mom would like me to need her more - especially since I'm saving to move out as soon as possible. But the truth is that I would enjoy my time with her more, and therefore spend more time with her, if she just respected that I don't need her help anymore - that I don't like her 'helping' me compulively. When I say 'compulsively,' I mean she doesn't give me a choice to whether or not to accept her help - especially when it comes to seeing what's in the fridge.