So my dad walks through on his way back and asks if I took Advil; I had in fact forgotten, so I get back out of bed where I’ve been for all of five minutes and follow him out to rectify the painkiller situation before the pain bit comes back

He shakes four out (the bottle’s nearly empty), putting one on the counter and the other three in my hand. I do not protest the number because it’s daddy. I [genuinely] casually dry-swallow all three at once, not even thinking about it.

This however, I am guessing, looked like showing off to dad, who managed to drop the bottle when trying to put it back in the cupboard; Advil safely away, he took the last one and tossed that in his mouth, half-glaring at me.

…and then coughed it back up making horrendous noises, because apparently he threw it in his mouth too quickly and it got caught in his throat, forcing him to sheepishly try again (this time with water).