THEY GROW UP faster than you can say Pocahontas. The next time he sees her this way will be prom night. The next, he'll be walking her down the aisle.

So today, for 90 minutes, Rob Hanscom captures every second of Jessica's 6th birthday party.

"Princess Jessica," he calls from behind the camcorder. "Happy birthday."

"Happy birthday, Daddy!" she squeals, eyes shining like emeralds.

Some kids request ponies. Others want magicians. But Jessica, Cinderella's biggest fan, wanted a visit from Queen Stephanie Tovani, the former Danville kindergarten teacher who, with a twirl of her wand and crates of sparkly supplies, transforms a little girl's home into fairyland, if only for an afternoon.

Jessica's friends, lined up in leotards, rifle through a rack of ruffles, seeking the perfect dress for her coronation. Pink. Lavender. Baby blue and gold. Gowns so bright, they could wake Sleeping Beauty from her slumber.

They wiggle into pastel chiffon, secure pointy princess hats and slide on jeweled slippers.

In their midst a little prince -- 3-year-old Nathan, whose presence here was required by the honorable Princess Jessica, his sister -- warily eyes a cranberry cape and king's crown that, at least for now, remain on the rack.

His lack of enthusiasm is more than made up for by the "Princesses in Training" (PITs) who are walking up a red velvet carpet that leads to a castle. It may be a three-panel screen, but to the princesses it's Camelot.

In the castle's royal salon, Princess Amreen, dressed as Snow White, rolls purple glitter on her hands. Nearby, the birthday girl snags a cotton swab from the vanity and sweeps it through a tin of eye shadow. She stares at it momentarily before brushing it across her forehead and above her eyebrows.

Perfect, she nods, looking in the mirror.

The others swarm around Queen Stephanie's manicure stand, waiting for their turn to feel the cold, wet, slick nail polish top their fingers. Princess Alia, a Jasmine look-alike, picks a grape to match her dress. Prince Nathan, still refusing to wear his cape, settles on a neutral vanilla sparkle.

To dry their nails, the PITs are told to stand on the red carpet and flap their arms like fairies. It is a tip that will last a lifetime.

In castles all over the world, when a girl becomes a princess, she must stand before her subjects, who determine if she is worthy of royalty. Is she a good friend? Is she silly? Smart? And surely princesses are beautiful. Is Jessica beautiful?

"Yesssssss!" is the resounding decision from the court. Since most coronations are followed by a celebration, members of the Royal Court spring to their feet and parade through the Livermore living room, tongues protruding as they concentrate on perfecting their princess wave -- elbow elbow, wrist wrist.

As "Under the Sea" blares through this castle, dresses twirl like merry-go-rounds and ballerinas are inspired to show off their moves. Now this is a party. For many, it's the first time they've worn heels on a dance floor. The clicking sound makes them giggle.

Next up is the social banter all regal ladies enjoy. Here, it's called storytelling. They take their seats, smooth their dresses, and they listen to the "Princess and the Pea." Just like the princess in the tale, it is time for the PITs to take the test.

One by one, they sit on pillows and wiggle their bums around to feel the pea. Everyone passes and is certified a real princess. Only Nathan, finally donning his cape and crown with pride, can't sense the pea's presence.

Duh, he's a prince.

All fairy tales must end, and the collective sound of dresses coming off is the first sign that this one is wrapping up. But there's cake in the other room, presents and goodie bags filled with princess supplies -- more jewels, travel sparkle and the requisite candy, here referred to as princess fuel.

As Princess Jessica peels off her gown, she's asked why she so enjoys being a princess.

"You get to be all dressed up," she says, beaming before she adds: "It makes me happy."

Daddy couldn't ask for anything more.