Home is where my mum is

My mother said to me, "Your room is still here. It's home now, of course you're always welcome."
She sounded disappointed, as if she'd rather I only ever dropped by periodically, henceforth, on my way to or from my husband's house; as if my room had become a temporary holding place, as it would otherwise be socially unacceptable for me to move directly to his house.

If I had said, "But...it is my room!" she wouldn't have told me that it was her husband's house, or that I was getting old, or that she was waiting for me to bring mine home, or that she was praying against the curse that is late marriage, or that she already had plans to convert my temporary holding space into a sewing room, or something like a greenhouse, like we had at the old house, since it was conveniently close to the roof, and to the sun.

Instead I said, "Don't worry mummy, I actually have a break from school; I won't be behind in my school work," and she said, "You're old enough to know when you can take time out now, what's my own business?" then she finished off with, "You're welcome at home anytime."

Thanks, mum.