After I moved out, my mother constantly worried I couldn't manage alone. Whenever she visited, she brought food and reorganized everything. At first it annoyed me.
Then I realized how happy it made her to feel needed. So I started asking for recipes I already knew, pretending I couldn't fold certain clothes properly, and calling about basic household questions. Over time she became more comfortable with my independence and I stopped. She thinks she taught me adulthood. In some ways, maybe she did.