"Settle down. Pull up a highness." -- Gallifreya
It had been an exciting day for Frisk. More excitement than their small body could hold. And so it sloshed out of them in the form of bubbling giggles and jittery dancing and jumping and buzzing hands.
Important people were slowly learning to negotiate with the Ambassador for Monsterkind before laying on the entertainment and treats. And this lot had yet to learn that very important lesson.
Frisk could not, yet, stop. They had yet to work off all the exciting still cramming their too-small body with more energy than seemed physically possible. It was move and laugh or -it felt like- explode.
Doctor Alphys was still working on a method of harnessing Frisk's excited energy. The chief flaw was that most methods required the child to stay still for a minute or more.
Also present in the room were the King and Queen (now officially divorced) and Sans, apparently half-asleep five seconds after sitting down.
"Er..." said the Prime Minister. "Ambassador?"
Frisk could not stop. There was still too much exciting inside.
"My child, please," begged Mama Toriel. "It is time for sitting and talking, now."
"They're overstimulated," mumbled Sans. "We told you: talk first, entertainment after. C'mere, kid." Sans snagged Frisk onto his lap with one seemingly negligent arm. "Settle down. Pull up a highness."
Frisk did a blowberry against his polished skull by way of farewell, and squirmed into Mama Toriel's arms. Their energy translated into a lot of jiggling and wriggling.
King Asgore sighed and pulled a cup of tea out of his inventory, briefly warming it with his fire magic. He passed it to Mama Toriel, who blew on it automatically before she helped Frisk sip from the cup.
Warm and sweet and aromatic and soothing and calm... tea dissolved the excess exciting and made all but a little spark go away. Giant paws -Frisk didn't really mind whose paws- stroked their hair. Calm settled on Frisk like a warm, fluffy blanket.
So calm that Frisk was in danger of falling asleep.
"Is this normal?" asked the Prime Minister.
"Define normal," said Sans.
 When you put your lips against someone else and blow to make a farty noise
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