If TWD's writers really wanted to make me happy (which they obviously don't, as they've proven for months and months now) it would turn out the zombie-making virus is airborne, can be dormant in a living person's bloodstream, and infects any newly dead body.
Then, it would turn out that Lori's imbecillically unnecessary car crash has killed her unborn child. Then the unborn child would become a zombie. It would slowly and painfully (but not nearly as painfully as being subjected to seeing Lori every Sunday night) slooo-ooo-owly claw and gum its way out of her womb. A big plus for the story arc of the show would be that Lori could be bedridden for much of the remainder of this season. (We can't have enough characters bedridden to amp up the dramatic tension.) For the season climax, they could steal from a movie that really was scary & have the baby pop out through Lori's abdomen--Alien-style--and scuttle off into a corner. Then Rick & Shane (and Dale, and Andrea, and Maggie, and Herschel) could argue for fifteen or twenty minutes about the ethical repercussions of shooting the zombie baby. Then they could decide to put it in bed. In the barn. And it would go missing.
And all next season they could look for it.
My moment of clarity came last night when zombies were pouring through that shattered window like Walmart shoppers on Black Friday morning. And I realized a zombie shortage wasn't at the core of my problem with this show. I realized I hate everybody on this show (expect maybe Daryl). I especially hate their writers and story editors and whoever is responsible for monitoring little logical consistencies like whether it is night or day during a particular sequence of events.
Then why am I still watching, you ask? Probably for the same reason cars on the freeway slow down when there's a wreck in the opposite lane.