Scottish school pupils gathered to sit exams today, but it was in the Holyrood chamber we saw the most fidgeting, nervous energy and hastily re-written notes.

Something was clearly afoot because our gaggle of representatives were positively unruly.

Could it be the itchy arrival of hayfever season? Back to work blues? The news of the Donald Trump’s impending visit?

Maybe, perhaps, possibly –it was the First Minister’s indyref2 announcement on Wednesday that got the adrenalin pumping. I don’t know why Unionist parties are complaining. It’s not like there is going to be any extra work involved for them. They don’t need focus groups or late nights strategizing, because their message hasn’t changed since 2014.

READ MORE: Nicola Sturgeon told by Tories she won't be given indyref2 powers

"No to indyref2!" I mean, it’s not even "No to independence!" or "Yaaas for the Union!" It’s just "No to voting! Down with democracy! Ban foam fingers!" We should have known the conciliatory tone and kumbaya vibes that Nicola Sturgeon was channelling yesterday wouldn’t last long.

A little-known fact about Ken Macintosh is that he has the slowest resting heart rate of any previous Presiding Officer. Down a winding corridor, hidden behind an unmarked door and not far from the hoover cupboard, wannabe Presiding Officers are taken for a series of aptitude tests. The owner of a heart that pumps too angrily or with undue speed is deemed unsuitable for such an important role.

READ MORE: FMQs: Patrick Harvie welcomes indyref2 push but hits out at economic plan

Ken passed with flying colours. It’s widely believed that his predecessor, Tricia Marwick, only just scraped through, given her penchant for vigorous commands of "WHEESHT". But today, sadly, even Zen Ken was feeling the strain.

"Please keep the noise down" he pleaded with backbenchers.

"We must set an example to young people!" From the banging of desks and V-signs being thrown, there was no evidence anybody heard him.

Jackson Carlaw took a leaf out of Groundhog May’s book and asked the same question on school subject choice he’d asked only a few weeks previously.

He yelped at Nicola Sturgeon that a "whole generation of pupils" had been "let down on her watch". Which was a bit awkward given how many of those young people are expected to be at SNP conference this weekend.

Ken Macintosh, who at this point was nearing a solid four on the Raging Scale, interjected to ask: "Would Derek Mckay and Colin Smith please stop talking to each other across the aisle?" Richard Leonard, who definitely wants the First Minister to stop talking about independence, ingeniously managed to link a question about food bank usage to indyref2.

It was so brazenly done that even the BBC’s Brian Taylor quipped afterwards that it was akin to a "single transferable question". Leonard accused Nicola Sturgeon of prioritising indyref2 over lifting people in Scotland out of the poverty they’ve been plunged into by – in large part – the UK Government’s disastrous Universal Credit rollout.

Take a few seconds to guess what the Sturgeon’s response was. What’s the first answer that comes to mind?

Ten points to canny National readers because you guessed correctly – devolution of full welfare powers.

Nicola Sturgeon pointed out that Holyrood wasn’t set up to be a mitigation parliament, fixing the damage of reserved areas of policy pursued by Westminster.

So she asked Leonard a question that she’s posed many, many times before. A question so predictable that she could have just telepathically communicated it to him and saved her voice for her big speech on Sunday.

"If, like me, he wants to tackle these issues, will he join me in asking for full welfare powers to be devolved?" In the intervening pause, there was some shuffling of papers. John Mason passed around a packet of Wotsits. Murdo Fraser sent a bad tweet. My five year-old excitedly shouted "Oh, OH! I know the answer!" And then, eventually, came the reply from Richard Leonard.

"Well given your track record you’d probably just hand those powers back!" Looking more like the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz than a future First Minister, Richard Leonard sat back down.

He wasn’t angry with himself. He was just very, very disappointed.