On a recent early morning, my nine-year-old daughter emerged from her bedroom, wearing that look I've come to recognize as either meaning, "I have covered the entire bedroom in pink glitter and you will love it" or "I have discovered the hard way that the cat doesn't like swimming." The truth was closer to the latter than the former.
My first thought was that the experience would probably be completely different than raising boys. Specifically, there'd be no way girls would think farting is funny, because women simply don't think that way. I have not had a wife/girlfriend/horrifying date who thought it was amusing in the least when I sounded the Butt Trumpet. That had to be a man-gene thing, and I would need to monitor this behavior around my sweet, precious, non-toxic girls.