A dressed-up Everyone Poops.Harris' art style is similar to Chris Raschka's, with thick, black outlines and a flat aesthetic. He sets the stage for a whodunit potty-time story by introducing a small, white dog clad in a blue sports jacket. Rather than anthropomorphizing the pooch, the clothing emphasizes the titular word business. Is this character a tiny, canine CEO? No. The dog remains on all fours, and rather than taking a seat in a chair, it scurries under a large desk in the first, wordless spreads. Meanwhile, a loafered human foot strides across the carpeted floor, and then the first words read, "Uh-oh…" as the feet stop before a brown lump on the floor. In the next double-page spread, a finger points: "Whose business is this?" While readers may immediately connect the dots, the narrator rattles off a series of statements to reject other potential culprits. "The baby does business in a diaper," and "Daddy does business in the bathroom," are two such statements, with art showing, respectively, a diapered baby and a man seated on a toilet, naked from the waist down and staring into his smartphone. Images show animals (most wearing the blue suit coat, with fish and birds in neckties) at various stages of defecation. "Everyone is doing business," the text enthuses. "Business is good." After everybody else is rejected as the offender, the dog is named and sent outside…to do more business.Sh-, er, stuff happens. (Picture book. 2-5)

Harris (Have You Ever Seen a Flower?) takes a time-honored toilet training euphemism and runs with it, using poster-like ink-and-brush art and saturated digital colors to infuse every page with mischievous energy and genuine encouragement. -Whose business is this?- asks the narrator, as an authoritative, orange-toned hand points to a pile of poo on the carpet. Readers know the answer, having seen a fluffy white dog wearing a bright blue coat guiltily hiding beneath a desk (blue haberdashery is a visual leitmotif). But Harris checks in with other poopers-in-progress anyway, underscoring that doing one-s business is perfectly natural in a species-appropriate place. En route to the book-s close, the survey of would-be rug-soilers reveals whom the culprit isn-t. The pile is too small for an elephant and too big for a ladybug, grown-ups poop in the toilet (clutching their phones and laptops), and -Bears do business in the woods. Cats do business in a box.- Cleverly, Harris incidentally categorizes readers as part of the smart set: upon noticing a full kids- potty, the narrator asks, -Wait. Who did this business? You did this business? This is good. Good business.- It-s poop positivity at its best. Ages 3-5. Agent: Steven Malk, Writers House. (Aug.)