How Accurate Are Baby Sheldon 1980s Cultural Details?

[Urgently Need Breastmilk. Compensation Negotiable.] Eileen Sharp used to be a straight-A student with a bright future until she met her ex-boyfriend and became pregnant. Now a single mother, Eileen needed a second job to make ends meet. Eileen laughed. This was either a joke or a forty-year-old man with a weird kink. She wanted to scroll away, but she had bags of breastmilk in the fridge, and money was tight. Did it matter what the old man did with it, anyway? She risked getting kidnapped. The moment she saw him, she was dazzled. . Billionaire Dominic Presley was engaged to Hollywood’s sweetheart. He had all the money in the world, but it couldn’t buy his infant son formula he could keep down. His fiancé would rather die than breastfeed, choosing to go on a trip instead of staying with their son. Dominic needed a miracle. It was a sweet angel with bags of breastmilk in her arms. The attraction was instant. Can Dominic ignore his growing attraction to Eileen to save his engagement? This woman would save his son, but she was the forbidden fruit he couldn’t refuse. This wouldn’t end well, he knew. Eileen knew her time with him was short. She was her boss. She hated herself for lusting after a taken man. But she hated herself more for wishing the crying little boy was her own. She loved him at first sight, more than his gorgeous father. And she wished she would never part. Can she leave when the time comes? Or will she steal the family she dreams of?

During a vacation on the eve of her wedding, Victoria Marquez spent a night with a stranger who mistook her for a prostitute. Worse still, she caught her fiancé cheating on her with her half-sister right after returning home. Enraged, she went abroad. Five years later, she returned with her genius baby boy. When asked to give a speech after winning a piano competition, her son expressed his wish to look for his daddy. A few days later, a mysterious guy showed up, claiming to be the father...

As the reigning eight-time champion of the transmigration department, I'm deeply traumatized by the idea of having fight with the fake heiress. Unfortunately, not only is there an 18-year-old fake heiress in my family of this world, but she also has eight older siblings who dote on her endlessly. Seriously, the stereotypical real versus fake heiress plot is driving me crazy. I retreat into the depths of my mom's womb immediately, my tiny hands clamping down on the umbilical cord. My refusal to leave my mom's body is absolute. [Those idiotic brothers of mine keep spoiling that 18-year-old extremely childish fake heiress who insists on sitting in a baby trolley all the time! If I were to leave this place, I'd definitely get assassinated by them!] My mom, who can hear my internal thoughts, is forced to suffer due to the complications in her labor for 72 hours straight. Finally, she yields to me by signing the "Zero-Tolerance Treaty on Unequal Treatment". She also assigns 108 bodyguards to me overnight. Satisfied, I finally release my hold on the umbilical cord and make my flashy entrance to this world. Mom taps me on my forehead. "Natalie is extremely pure and innocent. She would never come up with ways to hurt you." On the first day I go home, Natalie Fairchild, the fake heiress, pushes my crib toward the staircase on purpose. "I wanna see if Nev can fly!" A bodyguard instantly reaches out to catch my crib from coursing through the air. Scared out of her wits, Natalie slumps to the floor immediately. There, she starts crying like a baby. My second brother, Elliot Fairchild, pulls her into his arms lovingly. He says reassuringly, "Don't be scared, Nat. The bodyguard must have frightened you because of his actions, right? Now, now, you can stop crying now. Nev is fine, isn't she?" The next thing he knows, he gets tossed into the heavy downpour by another bodyguard.

19-year-old Dolores Kirby is the typical broke college student, although she never imagined having to struggle like this; working odd jobs, classes and noisy roommates that partied every night. She dreams of the day when she will be able to afford a better life. A new opportunity arrives, to babysit a rich man's house and do some errands for a lot of money, more than she ever made by covering turns or working all weekend. Just a few rules to follow, like; don't go into the second floor, don't enter the study and don't be around when the owner is home. The easiest one and her world flips upside down, Liam H. Westbrook, her boss, suddenly turns up at his home and one look at him and Dolores is hooked, shot by cupids an arrow. He is older and so out of her league. But what Dolores doesn't know is that the attraction is mutual.

After dying suddenly from overwork, I found myself transmigrated into the life of a fake heiress who had been cast out of her wealthy family. While the real heiress reclaimed the life that had once been mine, I decided to leave the drama behind. Armed with my savings, I embraced a carefree lifestyle, swapping boyfriends every three days and living for the moment. Then, two months later, life hit me with a curveball—I discovered I was pregnant. The problem? I had no idea who the father was. With no choice, I approached the three powerful CEOs I had been involved with, each more arrogant and competitive than the last. What followed was a 10-billion-dollar bet by each of the three over who the father might be, with me caught in the middle. "I bet the baby belongs to all three of you," I teased, only for them to roll their eyes and dismiss me as ridiculous. Even so, when I gave birth to triplets, their argument outside the delivery room went viral, sending the internet into a frenzy and turning my life—and theirs—into a spectacle.

My grandmother only knows how to draw one thing—infants. They're ugly, but people line up to buy the paintings. I watch as she takes those women into unlit rooms. Then, their bloodcurdling screams will ring out. Oddly enough, they always thank my grandmother when they're leaving. One day, I finally find out what exactly my grandmother paints. I discover the truth when I see an infant crawl out of one of the women's bellies—it looks just like the one my grandmother has painted.