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Hazel Bergeron:
  Hun?  You look upset; what's wrong?

George Bergeron:
  [all choked up]  I don't know.  Something, uh…sad…on the television, I think.

Hazel Bergeron:
  Oh, well, you should forget sad things, anyway; I always do. Compare this to the Vonnegut story, in which it says,

George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up.  And then he sat down again.  "You been crying?" he said to Hazel."Yup," she said."What about?" he said."I forget," she said.  "Something real sad on television.""What was it?" he said."It's all kind of mixed up in my mind," said Hazel."Forget sad things," said George."I always do," said Hazel."That's my girl," said George.  He winced.  There was the sound of a rivetting gun in his head.