I know your brother gets his stitches out today. Dad (human slave #2) is with him at the vet at the moment. This does not mean you need to fill in to keep me busy. I have quite enough on my plate at the moment.
Specifically I never want to utter the phrase: "Good grief, you've got cat litter in your eye!" again. Nor could I have done with your determination to escape the wet tissue of doom and keep the litter there. It's not good for you.
And to add insult to injury, right after being a swearing, blending, mincer of death while you are being cleaned, you then realise it feels much better clean, purr, headbump mummy, and wander off to lick yourself. That does not make me stop bleeding.