Failure to Communicate?

Setting:
My family and I are in an AirBnB home in Sequim, WA.
It is morning.  I am up hours before everyone because I don't sleep well.  I have been outside.  It is quite cool and cloudy out there.

When everyone finally gets up and prepares to leave for our adventures of the day, my granddaughter (16) presents herself in short shorts.  Since she'd had goose-bumps on her legs the evening before due to cool temps while eating ice cream outside in shorts, I was concerned.

Our conversation:
ME:  It's pretty cool out.  You might want to take long pants.
ROBIN:  Uh huh.
ME:  Did you bring long pants?
ROBIN:  No.  (I think she is being serious, but she is actually being sarcastic.)
ME:  I have a pair of capris that might work for you.
ROBIN:  When you ask me questions like that, it makes me feel that you don't think I'm smart enough to pack for myself.  (I think she is being sarcastic, but she is being serious.)
ME:  So you were just baiting me when you said you didn't bring long pants?
ROBIN:  Yes.
*Subject is dropped.  Child goes back to her room and reappears in long pants.  I think everything is fine.  It isn't.

We leave to go on our adventures.
Coming back in the car at the end of the day, a conversation starts about public schools versus the Sudbury school that my grandchildren attend.  (I taught in public schools for 40 years.  It was my life's work.  I am still in contact with and helping many former students.)  Granddaughter makes statements about how public schools and teachers don't care about students.  At first, I was defending the institution but finally realized that nothing I could say would be acceptable, so I stopped talking.  My daughter, always quite perceptive, said something like, "We have a public school teacher right here in the car with us who was well-loved by her students, so we should be mindful of that."  Just then, we arrived back at our home base.  My granddaughter said we could continue the conversation inside.  I said, "Just leave me out of it, if you do."

 I am joking about the whole long pants thing at dinner.  It is only then that I realize that my granddaughter was serious when she said I made her feel that I didn't think she was smart enough to pack for herself.  The whole family is present.  The word "nag" comes up.  Granddaughter is asserting her desire to be independent.  Grandma is asserting her desire to be helpful.  Grandma is a nag for trying to help when she thought Granddaughter had no long pants, because Granddaughter had said so.  Son-in-law asks me why I would assume granddaughter was baiting me.  I said, "Because I asked her, and she said yes!"

Grandma now feels...what does she feel?
I am feeling discarded, if not disrespected, as if my opinions and/or caring are not only unwelcome but also just wrong.  I wonder how the grandchild that I have adored since the second she was born could possibly jump to the conclusion that I didn't think she was capable of doing something for herself.  I do know that mistakes happen, and it would be just like Robin not to mention if she had forgotten long pants.  She would just tough it out on her own, without saying a word.  I didn't think I was out of line by asking the question but was labelled a nag for doing so.  I was also wounded from the anti-teacher comments made in the car at the end of the day.  And, I guess my granddaughter also felt injured by me. 

The whole experience ended okay.  I don't know what forces may have been behind the scenes by way of my daughter's filling Robin in about hurt feelings, but before the evening was over, Robin apologized, and I did, too.  On this trip, I have come to learn that some of the little off-handed comments that I make, meant as chit-chat conversation, are taken in ways that I never intend.  It bothers me quite a bit.  I don't always have the chance to understand that people don't always see me the way I see myself, but I did this time.

Through it all, the day's failures to communicate seemed vaguely familiar.  I seemed to recall similar experiences when my own daughter was a teen.  Some experiences are universal in that they happen to everyone, but some are seemingly genetic.  Yep.  This means that my daughter and granddaughter are so much alike that it's frightening.  I am outnumbered!

I've learned a bit about modern parenting.  God knows, I am slowly learning to butt out and just stay quiet over things that just seem to me to be part of who I am.  I have never expected anyone to honor my ways in their lives, but I certainly don't like being ridiculed just for caring.  Or am I a dinosaur after all??